Broken
by Mandi1
Summary: They had proven themselves strong in the past. Unbreakable, through change, force, and even death. But the cracks that form in the Cullens' lives are hard to ignore and even harder to repair when things start to shatter.
1. Heathcliff and Cathy

It happened on a Saturday. A normal, ordinary Saturday.

For the moment, Edward had pushed his piano into the corner, covered it with the protective sheet, and had instead taken out the hammered dulcimer. He had recently regretted his lessening skill and wanted to hone his talent once more. The last time he had gone through a dulcimer phase, Emmett had tossed the instrument out a second-story window, shouting something like, "If I have to hear another Irish jig another fucking time, I'll blow my brains out." Courteously – and due to the fact that he had no more dulcimer – Edward had given the practice up, until Esme bought him another one for Christmas, much to Emmett's dismay. He could only use two hammers just now, but with practice, and Emmett's patience withstanding, maybe he could work his way up to four.

Luckily, Edward was blessed with the sort of wife who didn't mind the hammered dulcimer. Bella sat on the couch, leaning over the table before her, humming along to "Oh Susanna!" as she pasted photos into the scrapbook she was finishing. He looked over at her, smiling and nearly losing his place in the music when she returned his gaze, her golden eyes so like his now. But he returned back to his instrument, a smile still lingering about his lips, the same one on hers as she placed the last photograph in her book.

"There," she said with the hefty sigh that always comes with a job well done. "All finished. Want to see?"

Edward deftly put the hammers next to the dulcimer and came to sit next to his wife, an arm casually slung around her shoulders as she opened the book to the first page. An exquisite coat of arms was emblazoned there in gilt relief, four quadrants of red and pale yellow with a tree growing in the middle, two initials on either side – R and J. Bella ran a pale fingertip over the R and gave a quivering little sigh before turning the page to the first picture – a beaming Jacob holding up the left hand of their daughter, upon which sat the ring that she had so readily accepted. Bella could feel her husband's arm tighten ever so slightly around her and turned the page, focusing instead on the cream and gold wedding announcement that took up the next page.

Edward relaxed then as she went on through photos of dress fittings, of engagement parties, of bridal showers. He only growled once, at a photo of Nessie holding up a scandalous piece of black lingerie at her bachelorette party (a photo Bella had only really put in there to plague him). But even so, he softened when she got to the photos of the wedding – pictures of their daughter preparing for the day of her life, of their new son-in-law waiting anxiously at the altar, of Edward and Nessie walking arm-in-arm down the aisle to her future husband. Bella paused then, again fingering the edges of the photograph, as if she could reach in and touch the girl if only she tried hard enough.

"Go on." Edward's voice was stiff – a sure sign he was attempting not to give in to his emotions. She smiled a little at that; he was still the same after all these years. But she went on nevertheless, turning through pictures of the reception, the couple leaving on their honeymoon, and the last final photo – Nessie and Jacob, arms around each other as they stood in front of their new little house on the Washington coast. Miles and miles away from where Bella and Edward were now, in the wilds of northern Canada where no one would question having a multi-million dollar estate in the middle of nowhere. Both heaved a little sigh as the book was closed.

"She did say she's coming to visit in the spring," Edward reminded her – or maybe reminded himself. Either way, Bella nodded and leaned her head on her husband's shoulder.

"Yes…but spring's so far away," she replied. "What will we do until then?"

"We _did_ have a life before we had a child, my love, if memory serves me correctly."

She laughed. "Sure, sure, I remember. I remember _very_ well."

He snickered, and nuzzled into her neck, nipping softly as he murmured, "Why don't you tell me what you remember…"

"Or perhaps I could show you…?" Bella let her hands begin their descent.

The ear-splitting scream that interrupted them was an absolute mood-breaker, as was the crash that followed.

* * *

Sometimes all it took was a good autumn breeze, the open road, and a two-month old cherry-red Ducati to clear a man's head. At least that seemed to be the case for Jasper. The absence of all the family was an occasional – and hard to come by – blessing, one that meant not having to deal with emotions that weren't his; pouting fits from Rosalie, holier-than-thou feelings from Edward, the confusion Bella so often experienced, even years after her transition, the overemotive highs and dull lows that came from Emmett, and the depression they were all feeling after moving away from Washington once again. Carlisle was calming and Esme was warming and when Alice wasn't bopping around like a star afire she was heaven on earth, but that wasn't enough to clear out the jumble of feelings tumbling around in his soul on a day-to-day, moment-to-moment basis.

And so, on nice days like today, Jasper would hop on his new bike and tour the wild, barely-hewn roads of the Canadian frontier, letting no emotion invade him but his own. It was pacifying, being unencumbered by any other feelings. Freeing, to be with his own self and no one else to worry about, to calm or to liven or to lull to a near-dead stasis. He revved the engine of the Ducati, not caring that he wore no helmet and appreciating the feel of the wind in his hair more than ever as he sped down the path.

He only returned when the sun was beginning its descent in the sky and the patches of skin that flashed between the cuffs of his leather jacket and the tops of his riding gloves were sparkling like diamonds. He took the easy path home, not wanting to damage his new plaything so early, and met up with another piece of fine machinery on the road – Carlisle's elegant Jaguar returning home. The man Jasper called his father had not taken a job in Canada but was instead using the peace of the wilderness (and their extensive Swiss bank accounts) to take some time off and focus on writing a book – his third, to be precise. The darkly-tinted window lowered when Jasper pulled up next to the car, and Carlisle's face peeked out, his eyes a darkening caramel.

"Enjoying your getaway, son?"

Jasper cracked a small smile. Yes, Carlisle understood. And his soothing spirit didn't ruin Jasper's mood at all. Had he met Rosalie on the road, that would've been another story.

"Everyone's busy back home, except Alice and Esme," Jasper explained, edging the bike up the drive home as Carlisle drove alongside him. "They've gone out hunting and won't be back till after dark."

The tip of Carlisle's pink tongue swept over his lip. "Ah, a hunt. Sounds tempting. I might have to –"

They weren't even at the end of the drive, but Jasper and Carlisle still heard the scream – and the crash that followed too.

* * *

"Animal testing? How awful."

Esme frowned as she made it to the top of the next hill, looking down at the industrial gray building in the valley below. Alice came to stand next to her and nodded unhappily.

"Yes, I saw it last night. Probably some awful cosmetics company or cleaning supplies or something equally stupid," she said with a sigh. "I, for one, am of the opinion that animals should be left to their own devices…unless I'm thirsty, of course."

"And it's better us drinking from the animals than from the scientists, I suppose," Esme said, a little wry grin on her face.

Alice laughed. "Indeed."

Mid-laugh, Esme stopped and crouched low, a scent on the wind catching her attention. Alice was attuned to it too, her eyes wide as she took in the vision at the same time.

"This way," the dark-haired girl said a moment later, leading the chase down the hill and through the forest. Esme followed Alice through the trees, stopping outside the quiet, dark den the girl had seen in her vision.

"Here?" Esme asked.

Alice nodded silently, then murmured. "Something with the testing…they're going to be taken…poked, prodded."

Esme felt her throat pool with venom. "We should…put them out of their misery…shouldn't we?"

Alice's face twisted into a wicked little grin.

They were swift. It was rather like a mercy killing, saving the two huge bears inside the den from being subject to the awful chemical torture Alice had seen happening. And when they were done, their thirst satiated for now, they took the short way home, walking lazily in the sunset light.

"Carlisle will be sad to have missed that," Esme said ruefully. "You know how he enjoys bear."

"His English palate thinks them exotic," Alice mused. "Give him a badger or a fox, and he'll be bored to death."

Esme reached over to pinch her daughter's cheek. "Be kind."

"Oh, I'm kind, I'm only saying –"

But she froze mid-sentence, her eyes widening with something Esme couldn't see. And when she came around, she said nothing to explain, only took off running.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Esme cried out as she followed.

"We have to hurry!" Alice said, her only explanation. "If we do, maybe we can stop them!"

"Stop who? What's going on?"

They had reached the clearing behind the house and still Alice did not slow down, not even when the scream pierced the air.

She stopped dead in her tracks when the third-story window crashed open, glass tinkling to the patio below, and she took a silent step backwards to get out of the way of the four-poster bed that followed, splintering to pieces on the ground floor.


	2. Gilbert and Anne

To be honest, it had started months ago, around the time the wedding planning had begun. What with her third prêt-a-porter fashion line ready to premier, Alice was far too busy jaunting to Paris every other weekend to put much effort into the preparation of Nessie and Jacob's ceremony. With Alice's help out of the question, Rosalie had stepped up to the helm, planning for the girl as if she had been her own daughter – a feeling Rosalie had always secretly harbored. After all, hadn't she been the one to care for the girl when Bella had been going through the change? Hadn't she stepped up to be a surrogate mother of sorts? Yes, she had, and so she planned the wedding with as much detail and focus as she had given to her own first nuptials so long ago.

Unfortunately, that also meant ignoring the other aspects of life normal people – even normal vampires – would deem necessary. Her immaculate wardrobe began falling behind the times. Edward had no one to bicker with. The cars sat, waiting and still, under their protective covers. And even Emmett began feeling neglected – especially when their fourteen-sessions-a-week routine was cut down to just eight. Then four. Then none at all for two whole weeks. Truly, it almost made sense that he began stockpiling those magazines.

Of course, Rosalie didn't see it as such. Thus the arguments began, little and picky at first before growing into full-fledged battles – like the one that Saturday, that ordinary, normal Saturday.

Emmett was in the bathroom styling his hair when his wife entered, her irritation an almost tangible thing in the room. He wondered for a moment if it was Edward's teasing again or if – but then he remembered. He had left a magazine on the bed for her to find, one of the good ones filled with girls almost as pretty as she was (cause even when he was so frickin' irritated with her, he still had to admit she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen). He heard Rosalie scoff and snickered at himself, knowing his plan to piss her off even more was working.

It was almost like a game now – see how mad you could get the other one before they exploded or caved in. Of course, the latter had yet to happen, but Emmett prayed it would be soon. As hot as Rosalie was when she was mad, she was ten times hotter underneath him doing those sinful things with her hips….

"Is this supposed to make me feel insecure?"

Rosalie's once-alluring voice now could be as cold and spine-chilling as when she taunted Edward, and it definitely cleared his head of those more-than-indecent thoughts. Making sure his mop of curls was perfectly gelled – he had learned _something_ after all those years being married to her – he stepped from the bathroom and leaned against the jamb, his massive bulk filling the doorframe.

"Nope," he said with a wicked grin, "it's supposed to make _me_ feel _good_."

Rosalie sneered, mauling her angelic face. "You're a pervert, Emmett Cullen. Esme would be ashamed if she knew."

Emmett scolded fit to match. "Leave Esme out of this. This is between you and me."

"You and me?" She arched one perfect golden eyebrow. "There hasn't been a 'you and me' for quite some time, Emmett _dear_."

"Oh, and whose fault is that, _darling_?"

"Are you blaming me for your nasty fetishes?"

Emmett felt his blood start to boil. As he scowled at her, he could almost feel his eyes turning to black. "Well, it sure would seem that if I was getting it elsewhere, I wouldn't have to take care of it myself, now, would I?"

Rosalie sighed, looking at her nails in a cavalier way. "Go ahead and get it elsewhere, Emmett. Better that than these dirty magazines."

"So you're giving me permission to cheat on you?" Emmett was more than a little astounded. Rosalie had said some pretty out-there things in the past, but never anything like that.

She murmured her assent. "Mmmhmm. At least then I'd have cause to leave you."

"Leave me?" he repeated, trying to hide the sudden wave of sickness in his gut with sarcasm. "As if you'd ever do that. You know you can't live without this." He grinned as he flexed, knowing she'd be a fool to pass him up.

But she looked at him and scoffed. "Is that supposed to make me swoon or something? You think I'm going to forgive all this –" she pointed at the magazines "– just because you pop out a few muscles?"

"You never could resist them before."

"You never were such a depraved idiot before."

Emmett let out an almost inaudible growl. "Well, excuse me for trying to get by while my _wife_ ignores me for six months straight."

"You _know_ that the wedding was something I had to –"

"You didn't _have_ to do anything, Bella could've hired a planner –"

"It was _Renesmee,_ our _niece_, would you really want some stranger –"

"Hell yes, I'd rather have a stranger doing that shit instead of you, fussing about nothing but ridiculous flowers and place settings and –"

"It's not ridiculous! It was important to her and important to me! You know Nessie and I wanted everything to be perfect, and I wasn't about to let her –"

"God _damn_ it, Rose, she's not your daughter!" Emmett finally exploded. "She's Bella's! Get the fuck over it and move on!"

The room was still, more still than it had ever been in the silence that followed their verbal explosion.

Then came the near-alien scream from Rosalie's lips. Emmett winced at the sound – all at once angry and painful and final, like a horrible deathcry from some wounded beast. Only Rosalie wasn't wounded at all; she still had the strength it took to grab the bed they had once happily shared and throw it across the room. Emmett stared in shock as the four-poster oaken bed moved, nearly in slow motion, through the floor-to-ceiling windows that took over the entire south wall. The sound of shattering glass filled his ears, followed by the horrible splintering crash of the bed landing on the ground, followed by five words that settled in his soul like droplets of water in a lake, like fledglings alighting on a nest, like a tornado ripping through the forest.

"I. Want. A goddamn. Divorce."

It was almost as if he had been socked in the gut hard enough to have the wind knocked out of him, something that hadn't happened for over eighty years. No. _No_. This was in _no way _what he wanted to happen. But…he couldn't start begging. Not right away, at least. With Rosalie, it was all about the game. Yeah, the game. That was it. It was probably just a game with her, a test to see how badly he wanted her to stay. And the hell if Emmett McCarty Cullen, continual champion, was going to give in so easily. Let her have her fun. He'd make her come around just by refusing to give in.

"Fine," he scoffed, his voice lofty and high as if he couldn't care less.

Rosalie's brilliant topaz eyes widened in surprise for a moment before narrowing coldly. "Fine."

"_Fine_."

"_Fine!_"

She gave another piercing shriek as she turned sharp on her heel, leaving the room in a blur almost as fast as Edward. Barely ten seconds passed before he heard the roar of an engine followed by the screeching of tires – a sure sign that she was way beyond angry, if she was putting one of her babies through such paces.

That screech seemed to clear Emmett's head and allow other noises to infiltrate: his barely-there breathing, the glass and wood still cracking and falling down the ground below, the worried murmurs of his other family members, and Esme's cry from outside the hole where his bedroom windows had once been.

"Emmett? Emmett! Are you alright?"

He stepped over to the gaping space in the wall, leaning over to see Esme and Alice standing amidst the ruins of his marital bed. His sister's face was as calm as ever, as if she had seen this before it had happened – and of course she had. His mother, on the other hand, had eyes filled with worry, her mouth drawn up tight. Emmett put a hand on the broken wall for balance before jumping through the hole to the grassy backyard, a few feet from where the wreckage and his family were.

"I'm fine, Esme," he said, trying to sound jovial, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shrugging his shoulders, like beds flying out of windows were everyday occurrences.

But Carlisle didn't have the worried look of his wife or the calm placid look of his daughter. He was almost bordering on livid as he burst from the backdoor and asked, "What on earth is going on here?"

Emmett shrugged again, feeling more than slightly ashamed as he kicked at a broken bedpost with his toe.

"Emmett and Rose were fighting," Alice said matter-of-factly, then added in a softer tone, "Rose wants a divorce."

"A divorce?" Esme repeated.

Emmett bit the inside of his cheek, hard. Playing along with Rosalie's little game was all well and good (provided she gave in soon), but having to deal with his family's pity was almost more than he could bear. Emmett Cullen was not one to be pitied.

"Surely it's all just a misunderstanding," Esme said hopefully, glancing from him to his sister and back again.

He only caught a glimpse of Alice out of the corner of his eye, but he could still see her shaking her head sorrowfully.

"Whatever," Emmett mumbled, still as breezy as possible – which probably wasn't breezy enough. "Rosealie's probably just being her drama-queen self. She'll come around."

"Yes," Esme said, her voice sounding forced, "she'll come around. She has to." The gentle squeeze she gave his shoulder was reassuring, and he thought for a moment that maybe he could ask Esme to pull some strings and talk to her and…

But that would be giving in, just as much as crawling back to her would. And this was the last time Emmett was going to give into Rosalie's stupid dramatic fits. She would be the one crawling back now. And so he was able to walk in the house with a smile on his face and his head held high.

Edward and Bella met him in the kitchen with worried looks on their faces. He made sure to think pleasant thoughts – or to at least fill them with pictures from that magazine so Edward would stop being so nosy.

"Was that really a bed on the back lawn?" Bella asked incredulously.

Surprisingly, Emmett found himself smiling. It was borderline hysterical, but it was still a smile. "Yeah, Rose tossed it out. Says we're getting a divorce."

He caught the worried glance the two of them shared, as well as the swift motion of Bella's hand to Edward's arm as they shared a thought.

"Didn't you tell me that she's threatened that once before?" Bella reminded them.

Edward nodded gravely. "Yes, but that was 1973. We…_they _were all having a bit too much fun then." He ignored his wife's pointed stare and cleared his throat just as Jasper came into the room, shrugging off his worn leather jacket.

"Rose tore out of the garage like a bat out of hell," he murmured softly as he removed his matching riding gloves. "Anyone want to let me know what's going on?"

"She's threatening divorce," Edward explained gently.

The corner of Jasper's mouth tucked up in a wry smile. "Again?"

Bella frowned at him. "We're serious. She threw her bed out the window."

Jasper was quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning over Emmett's form. The burly man felt almost as if he were naked, having his brother read him so easily. He could hide his thoughts and words, but having someone sneak into your innermost feelings was invasive and horrifying.

"I'm sure she'll come to her senses," Bella offered kindly, putting her hand near Emmett's elbow. He looked down at the woman, the newest to their clan, and gave the biggest fake smile he could muster.

"I'm sure," he replied with a grin. "And screw her if she doesn't."

But by the time the rush ordered divorce papers arrived from Mr. Jenks' office the next day, that grin had disappeared.


	3. Lancelot and Guinevere

…_yet no matter the schooling and level of education the physician had and despite his being either a natural-born son or a foreign shaman, the most important theory to the late Medieval doctor was that of the four "humors": yellow bile, or cholic, black bile, or melancholic, phlegm, or phlegmatic, and blood, or sanguine. These four substances – _

Carlisle put down his pen and winced, rubbing at his temples as if he were actually able to have a headache. Such a human malady was, of course, out of the question, but with the intense research he had been doing lately combined with the tension in the house over the last twenty four hours since Rosalie's paperwork had arrived was enough to trigger a migraine in any man, human or non. He had retreated to his study to "write," or at least that was what he had told everyone. Edward had obviously bit back a comment, hearing in his mind that Carlisle was just going in there to seek peace, and Esme gave him a knowing look but said nothing.

To be truthful, he _had_ written a small bit since coming into the study, but most of his time had been spent in idle thought. With the arrival of the courier from Jenks' office, the house had fallen seemingly upside down. The always-jovial Emmett had sullen, moody, and quick to temper. Rosalie had only _just_ come home two hours ago, and, after parking her car, had immediately gone upstairs to the room she and Emmett shared and begun moving things around, by the sound of it. Whether she was relocating to another room in the house or another home entirely had yet to be determined, but Carlisle knew the question had to be asked, and he knew he had to be the one to do the asking.

And so, with the smallest of sighs, he pushed his chair back and headed out of the room, crossing through the unused kitchen-cum-art studio to the back staircase. Esme was there, sketching solemnly at her easel, an angular drawing made with heavy black charcoal. It was obvious what sort of mood she was in, but a smile still graced her elegant face when she turned to look at him.

"Done writing for the day?" she asked hopefully.

He bent down to kiss her forehead, murmuring against her hairline, "Perhaps. I was going to check on Rosalie."

Esme frowned then, but her face was still as radiant as could be, and a shiver ran through him at the sight of her – as well as the urge to solve whatever problem was making her frown so.

"She was putting things in boxes, Carlisle," she said, a touch of fear in her voice. "You don't think she means…"

"I'm sure not," he interjected. "We're a family. We stay together, divorced, separated, together. Whatever it may be."

The frown went away then, but the smile didn't return. He bent to kiss her again – this time on her rosy mouth, and with a little more passion than was probably appropriate at three in the afternoon – and turned to the stairs, taking them seven at a time.

The door to Rosalie and Emmett's room was slightly ajar, and he could hear steady movement from inside. Carlisle paused near the jamb, poking his head in and calling out to his daughter.

Rosalie, just as beautiful as since the day he had turned her, was carefully piling books into a cardboard box, her slim white hands moving steadily to and from the shelf.

Carlisle cleared his throat to alert her of his presence. When she looked up, he managed to work in a smile, though the situation hardly warranted it. "Working hard?"

Rosalie smiled then, a meager and slightly sorrowful one, but he could see the self-satisfaction running underneath it…though that was a feeling running underneath almost all of Rosalie's smiles.

"Hi, Carlisle," she said softly, only hesitating in her packing for a moment. He stepped further into the room and stopped in the space where the bed used to be.

"Packing, I see." He was almost unable to think of anything else to say. How did one go about talking of such things? They had been a family for so long…for it to change so suddenly was almost unthinkable.

"Mmmmm." She made a gentle, non-commentary noise in reply.

"Do you need some help?" he offered, yet was unsure if he would be able to bear moving his eldest daughter from their home if that was what she was doing.

Rosalie nodded. "Thanks. Can you finish these books while I work on the closet?"

Carlisle moved over to the bookcase and began lifting volumes out – _Something Blue_, _Bergdorf Blondes_, _Vogue: The Illustrated History_, a few back issues of _Motor Trend_ – and placing them in the box as Rosalie came from the closet, her arms full of clothes. Only instead of being the glimmering Versaces and tight silken Pradas that were the staples of her wardrobe, she was holding a stack of multi-colored polos that were often one size too small for the broad-chested wearer.

"Rosalie…aren't those Emmett's?" Carlisle ventured to ask.

She nodded as she placed the shirts on the chaise lounge. "Of course. Why would…_oh_." She paused for a second before saying, "You didn't think I was going to move from my own room, did you?"

He took a deep, cleansing breath. "You mean you aren't moving from the house?"

Rosalie's face lit up in a laugh, and Carlisle felt the tension in the room dissipate slightly. "No, of course not," she insisted. "I'm staying right where I am. Emmett, however…"

"Rose, do you think that's fair? After all, he's content to stay in the marriage, and –"

"Content?" She snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Does a man content with his marriage glare at you while signing divorce papers?"

Her voice was hostile and tense, and perhaps Carlisle was just imagining the slight undertone of regret. But he reached out to touch her slim shoulder as he said, "Surely it will work out."

She shook her head. "You've been listening to Esme too much. It's not going to work out. We're getting a divorce, and he's moving out. That's that."

"Emmett told me about the magazines. Is that really worth it?"

"It's not _just_ the pornos, Carlisle. He's been doing shit like this for months."

"Like what?"

"Like cracking jokes at my expense. Putting me down to everyone else just because he's mad my priorities were elsewhere. _Ejaculating_ in my _washer fluid container_ and–"

"Okay, enough, enough." Carlisle held up his hands, trying to hide his smirk. It wouldn't do to laugh at something that had ruined what Rosalie held so dear – perhaps dearest, now that she and Emmett were truly finished. "But even so, shouldn't you be the one moving out? You were the one to ask for the…the separation."

"Divorce, Carlisle. You can say it," she said soberly. "Yes, I asked for it. But he caused it. And here I am, packing up his things for him." She smiled, a trifle bitterly. ""I figured it was the last wifely duty I could fulfill…and would probably be better than tossing everything on the lawn."

Carlisle said nothing, only moved back to the box of books and removed the tomes he had put in there, sliding them back onto the shelf with the rest of his daughter's and moving on to pull out his son's. _Fight Club_, Tom Clancy, _The Collected Works of James Fenimore Cooper_, a battered first edition of _Tarzan of the Apes_…all books that reflected the strong, clear-minded man his son was. Or once was. That man hadn't been seen for quite some time, and Carlisle wondered if he would ever resurface.

They worked in silent tandem for a while, Rosalie moving to and from the closet, emptying out its male contents while Carlisle worked on the books and the wide array of hair products in the bathroom. When they were finished, Rosalie wiped her hands together, the look of a job well done on her face. "Almost finished."

"Almost?" Carlisle repeated.

Rosalie smiled slyly before walking over to where the broken window had been and where large plywood boards were now. Using her fingernails as pliers, she wrenched enough of the nails away to take off one of the boards, opening a space that led to the cloudy afternoon outside. She bent to pick up a box at her feet and leaned out, nearly going through the open hole in the wall. Immortal as she was, they were still two stories up, and Carlisle stepped forward protectively – and to see just what she was doing.

A gentle smile on her face, Rosalie tipped the box over, letting its contents fall out one at a time. Magazines began to rain down – obviously Emmett's dirty magazines, by the looks of the scandalous covers – and their pages fluttered like butterflies as they floated to the ground. Rosalie let go of the box too – and let out a sudden frustrated grunt. Carlisle moved to stand next to her and looked down, following his daughter's disgruntled gaze.

Yes, the magazines had made it to the ground floor, but they were being caught in midair by a smug-looking Edward, who bowed at the waist and reminded her, "Littering is a terrible thing, Rose," before catching the last magazine and going back inside the house.

"He heard what I was thinking," she muttered sullenly, staring down at the clean lawn her husband's magazines had been headed towards. "Well, no matter. It's done. Would you mind going downstairs and telling Emmett to come move these boxes? I'm going to the garage. The GTO needs an oil change."

Carlisle nodded as he walked from the room, pausing in the door to look back at his daughter. She still stood in the opening of the wall, looking down at the lawn, her arms crossed over her chest – defensively? Indifferently? As if trying to hold herself together? No, wishful thinking. Even so, he called out to her. "Rosalie?"

She turned, and her face was serious. "Yes, Carlisle?"

"You know…my grandfather lived in a land where there was no such thing as divorce."

He let the thought linger in the air and left it fluttering down to the ground as he stepped from the room.

* * *

His arms laden with pornographic magazines, Edward kept his head held high as he came into the living room where Emmett currently was hiding. The hulking immortal was taking up a good half of the couch while he sat there, playing a one-man Wii Tennis tournament and trying to get his name into all the high scores. He had nearly succeeded; the only two left were 'RoseAlwaysWins' and 'EmmettSuxMonkeyBalls.' Edward paused in the doorway for a minute to watch the tournament continuing and Emmett running around like a fool before he came in and dropped the magazines on the antique coffee table.

"Rosalie left you a little present, it seems," Edward said, trying very hard to keep humor from his voice.

"Thanks, man," Emmett replied with a grin. "I was wondering when I was going to get those back."

The cavalier tone his brother took rocked Edward a bit. As serious as this divorce was, neither Rosalie nor Emmett seemed to truly be thinking things through. Rosalie's mind was clouded with all the poorly-chosen tricks Emmett had played over the past year, all the things he had done to plague her, until the idea rooted that he had done them on purpose to drive her to divorce. Emmett's mind was as carefree as ever – a bad thing in this situation. He was treating it like it was a big joke, as if either everything would blow over and return to normal momentarily or divorce wasn't such a horrible thing and everyone else in the family was overreacting. It was time for a talk, and it seemed he had to be the one to give it.

"Emmett, don't you think you and Rose should talk this over a little more?"

"Talk this over?" Emmett muttered as he made the first digital serve. "What the fuck, Edward? I thought you were on my side."

"I am, I am. Lord knows I'd rather be there than on Rose's." Both snickered softly for a brotherly moment before Edward went on. "But even so…it's been eighty years. You've gone through things like this before. Remember in Chicago? The go-go dancer?"

A slightly dreamy look came over Emmett's face. "Yeah, I remember." He missed the next swing but didn't seem to care much.

"Yes, well…you got over that too, if I recall correctly."

"You always do, Edward." Emmett grinned and won the game, typing in 'EMMETTisKING' on the screen. It was fifth place, but it still knocked 'EmmettSuxMonkeyBalls' from the top ten. "See, told you I could do it. Go on and tell Miss Priss she better watch her back."

Edward ground his teeth together. Absolutely nothing was sinking into his brother's head. "You go tell her yourself. After all, she _is_ your wife."

Emmett set his jaw and started another game. "For two more hours, Ed. Only two more hours."

Edward only had a second to wonder if the tension in Emmett's voice was unhappy or grateful. Emmett said nothing more. He swung his arm back and slammed it forward, sending the ball on the screen flying past his digital opponent. They had no chance.


	4. Romeo and Juliet

Poor vision was not a problem Jasper had, nor was scoliosis, yet there he sat, hunched over his self-assembled (and thus perfected) PC, his eyes squinted as he stared at the glowing screen. He had only been at work on the website for a few moments, and it was already falling to pieces in his nimble, expert hands.

Over the past few decades, it had been his job to hack into the collegiate systems for himself and his siblings when high school transcripts were unavailable. The hack was simple enough; the only things truly necessary were the falsified transcripts, certification, and background paperwork, and that was where J came into play. Another package from the man had arrived in the post office box that morning, and all that was left to do was get into the University of Saskatchewan registrar. Sure, it was illegal, but it was so like child's play – even for a human child – that it barely counted. In a moment, the acceptance was ready to go through, and Jasper's fingers were quickly flying across the keyboard, typing in the required fields with the information he had already gathered.

_Name:_

Rosalie Lillian Hale

_Date of Birth:_

June 15, 1994

_Address:_

5132 Main, P.O. Box 1915

La Ronge, SK SOJ 1L0

The rest of the information was typed in quickly enough, detailing her supposed high school attendance and extracurricular activities, her grade point average, even a short essay he spun up off the top of his head (just to seem legitimate. She would get into the university either way, what with his hacking skills and the significant donation Carlisle was making). A few more keystrokes and one solitary click of the mouse…and Rosalie's acceptance letter was being printed out beside him. He was placing it in the file he had set aside for her when he heard the door crack open just the slightest hair. Jasper paused to smell the air and –

He smiled and turned to the door. "Hello, beautiful."

Alice beamed. "Hi, Jazz."

Jasper leaned back in his chair as she came closer, hopping lightly to sit on the edge of the desk. The short purple skirt she was wearing hiked up her legs, exposing the smooth, creamy skin of her thighs. Jasper swallowed hard and averted his eyes to her face as Alice peered over at his computer and asked what he was doing.

"Registering Rosalie for school," he explained, twisting the screen to show her. "She's starting her engineering classes in a month."

Alice paused and pursed her lips, a sure sign she disapproved, yet nothing contrary was said, just a soft, "That's kind of you."

Despite the temptation, Jasper reached forward and put his hand on her knee. "You don't think that, do you?"

She shrugged her thin shoulders, again noncommittal and evasive, her eyes focused somewhere over his shoulder. He could feel the discouragement seeping out of her, something that was only held back by the love and adoration he always felt in his wife.

"Alice," he murmured, reaching up to tilt her face towards his, making her eyes meet his own. "Say what you think. If we disagree…well, it won't be the first time."

She smiled, just a little, and it was slightly tinged with sorrow, but it was a smile nonetheless. "It's just," she started slowly, "here you are taking care of Rosalie and getting her into this school – not that I think she shouldn't go, I…I just…"

The disapproval started to trickle in then, and he bit his lip. "You're upset I'm helping our sister out?"

"It's not like that."

"It seems that way."

This time, it was her small palm that met his cheek. "Think about it, Jasper. Who's to blame? Did Emmett start this whole ridiculous proceeding? Did he serve her with paperwork?"

"No, but –"

"Then it's her fault for doing this. For ending their marriage. You know he would've stayed if they had tried to work things out. He would've even apologized, I _know_ he would. I love her, Jazz, she's my sister and she always will be. But she's breaking up our family."

"She is not. They're both still here. We're still all together."

"Barely!"

"She's my _twin_, Alice. What am I supposed to do?"

Alice kept her mouth shut tight but gave him a Look.

"Alright, not in the blood sense. But I understand where Rose is coming from."

She arched a singular jet eyebrow. "Does that mean you're going to divorce me next?"

"Come on, love, you know I didn't –"

"Then explain it to me. Explain to me how what she's doing to our family can possibly be right."

"What she's doing?" he repeated. "What about everything Emmett did? All those pranks? He was behaving like a child. He didn't _try_ to apologize, how do you know he would now? Rosalie had to get it through to him somehow. And while I don't entirely agree with her method –"

Alice snorted.

" – that doesn't mean I don't support her. She's our sister."

"She broke them up. She broke _everyone_ up!"

"Broken or not, we still are a family." The words rang in the air like bells for one still moment before he went on. "And so I offer my services to her as a brother, no matter what choices she makes."

Alice's lips were drawn and tense; he didn't need to feel her emotions to know she was upset with him. He let his hands fall down to her own, clasping them tightly.

"Alice, please," he said gently, "let's not let this upset us too. The whole house is so tense. I can hardly stand it. I'd just about explode if you were mad at me too."

He knew it was almost like cheating, but he put just the slightest twang to his words as he spoke them, knowing that would help melt her heart the tiniest bit.

It did. She leaned forward and pressed her cool lips to his forehead, staying there for a brief moment before drawing back and sliding off the desk, standing between his spread knees.

"I may not agree with everything you do," she admitted with a slight smile, "but I know your heart's in the right place. The wrong person, maybe, but the right place."

He rolled his eyes and grinned, squeezing her hand just as the door opened once more. Still keeping her grip on him, Alice stepped aside and looked over at the guest – no, _guests_ – who had come into the study.

"Rose, Bella," Jasper said, rising to his feet to greet his sisters. He could see Alice out of the corner of his eye hanging her head and felt the slightest feeling of shame coursing out of her. Gently, he rubbed his thumb over the pad of her hand, trying to ease the feeling out of her – if only for his sanity. Having Alice upset meant intense stress on his empathy as well as on their marriage.

"We came to see if the forms were done," Rosalie said stiffly. Her honey-hued eyes flickered nervously down to Alice's, almost as if she could feel the tension in the air as well as Jasper. Truly, it wouldn't be that hard. Almost everyone was standing still as statues, dancing carefully around the elephant in the room.

"Yes, right here." Jasper leaned down and pulled the file from the drawer he had placed it in. He stepped forward to hand it to her, Alice letting go of his hand in the process; his palm felt entirely too empty without it, but he refrained from grasping her again after Rosalie had taken the file. He had already felt that flicker of pain coming from his sister when she had spotted their casual embrace upon entering.

"Thank you," she murmured as she began shuffling through the papers.

"Did it take very long?" Bella asked – in an effort to fill the silence, it seemed.

Jasper shook his head. "Not at all."

Alice's cool fingers brushed on his arm as she stepped away, giving him a sympathetic little look. All three of them silently watched her go to the door, no one speaking until she was nearly out.

"Alice?"

It was Rosalie. She had a worried look in her eyes and a nervous feeling emanating out of her. The small black-haired beauty stopped in the doorway and looked back at her sister.

"Did you think…we were supposed to go to Regina tomorrow, to shop, remember?" Her words were hesitant, as if they had been sitting on her tongue for the longest time, trivial as they were.

Alice bit her bottom lip and stared at the floor, her mind surely whirring with potential happenings. Jasper felt a blur of emotion before she became calm once more.

She looked at Rosalie, the corners of her mouth curling up ever so slightly. "I'll meet you in the garage at nine."

But Jasper could still feel the hesitancy in her, the hesitancy going to battle with her so strong sense of family ties. Her eyes met his once more before she shut the door behind her.

"Well…that was awkward," Bella murmured.

Rosalie let out a weighty sigh. "Is that how it's going to be from now on?"

"What, tense and painful?" said Bella.

She shrugged. "I suppose. Do we have to be a family divided? Can't we just take what happened, understand it, and let things go?

Jasper felt Alice's defensive words jump into his mouth but he bit his tongue. Yes, it was Rosalie and Emmett's shared fault, and yes, their inability to get along was making it horribly difficult to 'let things go,' but he wasn't about to remind her of that – and invoke her wrath. He would just be the dutiful brother and attentive husband, siding with his adopted twin while still loving his wife.

"We just have to go on," he said in a non-committal way.

Rose pursed her red lips in a pout. "Are you sure you don't want to go to university too? It'll be so much more fun if I'm not alone."

He hid a smirk. "Me, an engineering student? No, I think my time is better diverted in the application rather than the learning process. Besides, I only just finished my anthropology degree."

"You'll be fine on your own," Bella said supportively, but Rosalie still sniffed in a hurt way, her dramatics never failing to appear. She gave thanks for the files as if bestowing a benediction before walking out of the room, her head held mightily high.

Jasper sighed heavily once his sisters had left. Truly, in all honesty, his heart belonged with Alice, and that was where his loyalty should lie. But did they really all have to make it so difficult?

While Jasper was downstairs contemplating the puzzle that is the female species, Alice was upstairs in their room, specifically in her "thinking place." The little space between her full-length mirror and her floor-to-ceiling shoe rack (the space she hoped to fill with that huge beautiful rosewood makeup trunk she had been dropping hints about to everyone and anyone) was the perfect spot to curl up into and dream a while. She felt such a spot was necessary when literal sleeping dreams were impossible and when your wildest dreams were often achievable, thanks to the immense amount of wealth she had helped her family accrue over the years.

For the moment, she was hugging her knees to her chest, imagining a world where everything was back to normal, their family was happy and whole and everyone was together. For such a long part of her life, she had been hungry for a family. She had been alone and had wanted nothing more than to be a part of a loving whole. And she had gotten it. After years of searching, she had found the most wonderful man, her soulmate, her Jasper. And then they had found their family. Now, it was all coming to pieces with one stupid piece of paperwork.

She should have seen it coming. She should have been paying attention to the future and put a stop to this. But no, her focus had been on that ridiculous clothing line – alright, not ridiculous, but still nowhere near as important as her family. If she had tried, perhaps she could have seen them, intervened, or at least fixed it so there wouldn't be such a horrible divide between the family. That was perhaps the worst part. Not only were Rosalie and Emmett going against each other, but their opposing feelings had spread to the rest of the Cullens as well.

Alice and Edward were with Emmett, of course, feeling that Rosalie's decision had ultimately broke up the family (though Edward was mostly on Emmett's side to make Rose mad). Jasper was with his twin, Bella was siding with the woman who had helped to save her child, understandably, and Carlisle and Esme were remaining as neutral as possible. Perhaps it was rude and awful of her to be siding with Emmett rather than the girl who had been her only sister for so long, but it was even more awful of Rosalie to do this to them.

And so she remained huddled up in the one empty space left over in her customized closet, running one fingertip over the t-strap of her new turquoise Dolce and Gabbana sandals, trying to come up with a concrete scenario wherein she could wear them to yet another wedding for Emmett and Rosalie.

Nothing.

She sighed heavily and rested her forehead on her knees. Not a single vision. At least not one that didn't end in dissolution of property or one or both moving out. The only thing she was getting now included Jasper currently making his way up the stairs to check on her.

Alice looked up to find her husband poised in the doorway, watching her with a sorrowful expression on his face. She pursed her lips; what reason did he have to be sad?

"I don't like it when you're upset," he said as if reading her thoughts. She shrugged her thin shoulders while he moved into the closet, sliding down to kneel before her gracefully. "Talk to me."

"I just…" she started then stopped, taking an unnecessary breath before going on. "I want us all to be happy again."

Jasper smoothed a broad hand over her head, brushing her choppy hair behind her ear. "And we will be happy. In time."

"Not the same way."

"No, not the same way. But things never stay the same. You know that better than any of us."

"But I can't see a thing. Not how long it will take or how we can get back to normal or anything."

"I suppose since everyone's so unsure themselves, that makes sense."

Her eyes grew wide and serious. "But Jasper…I can't even see Emmett laughing. Not for months and months."

Jasper was still for only a moment before nodding. "I can understand that. If I were to lose you…"

Alice's stare grew blank for a moment as she imagined the horrors that would follow such an occurrence. She shook her head furiously. "No, you know that would never happen."

"So," he said softly, "in the meantime, can we agree to disagree about who's to blame and just stay strong for one another? Make it through this together?"

She sighed softly then nodded, positive she could make it through almost anything with Jasper to help her.


	5. Petruchio and Katherina

Though some couples handle disagreements well, others have more trouble. Alice and Jasper were on opposing sides yet relied on each other too much to fight anymore. Carlisle and Esme were staying neutral and thus stayed strong. Bella and Edward, however, were another story.

Their suite of rooms on the smaller attic level of the house had been given to them as a tenth anniversary present, and it included Edward's music room, the main bedroom and adjoining bath, and a sitting-cum-dressing room (that Alice insisted she had 'seen' but Bella wasn't so sure). It was in that sitting room that Bella currently was in, lounging on the buttery-soft suede couch with an open copy of _Wives and Daughters_ on her chest and her mind wandering.

It had been nearly a month since Rosalie and Emmett's divorce had been finalized, and they had moved to separate wings of the house. Funny how that movement had seemed to be mirrored in herself and her husband. What with Bella staunchly supporting Rosalie and Edward taking Emmett's side, they had themselves been dealing with tiffs that whole month long, and had just yesterday taken over separate rooms in their suite. Edward hadn't emerged from his music room all day. Normally, Bella would've slipped soundlessly through to door to watch him at his piano far earlier, but no, she wasn't going to give up this time. She'd just stay here in her sitting room, armed with the big pile of books pulled from the library.

But of course every time she opened one, she thought of him. _Sense and Sensibility_ had an Edward in it. _The Last Days of Pompeii_ was written by Edward Bulwer-Lytton. And _Heart of Darkness_ was, of course, Edwardian literature. So now she put _Wives and Daughters_ – the title far too striking – down on her chest and let the last argument of theirs replay itself in her head.

They had both been in the living room, Bella writing a letter to Charlie and Edward idly rolling skeins of yarn into balls for Esme's knitting when Emmett burst in, his face greasy and his cupped palms holding a handful of what looked like brand-new sparkplugs. He shot Edward a pleading glance, and the bronze-haired man smirked and shook his head.

"No," he murmured casually, unraveling a long purple skein, "I'm not helping you."

"Come _on_," Emmett pleaded. "I've gotta have an accomplice. That way she can't pin it _completely_ on me."

"Exactly why I'm not helping you," Edward explained. "You can make her raise hell all on your own."

Emmett grunted angrily. "At least help me find a hiding place. Where won't she look?"

Alice paused as she passed by the doorway to call in, "I'm not cleaning out the garbage disposal this time."

Emmett's eyes lit up like a schoolboy's, and his voice turned just as dreamy. "_Perfect_."

And before anyone could speak, he was off. Bella put down her pen and turned away from the desk to give her husband a look.

"What?" Edward asked innocently. "I didn't suggest it."

"Go stop him," she insisted, nodding her head to the door.

He shook his head adamantly. "Absolutely not. He's a big boy."

Bella rolled her eyes and muttered softly, "A big boy who's tearing this family to pieces."

Edward frowned at the ball of yarn in his hands. "Just because you don't agree –"

"Jasper doesn't agree either."

"Yes, and we've all seen the _wonders_ Jasper has done for this family."

She winced. "That was a low blow."

"I was only thinking of last year. Remember the postman in Seattle?"

"Would you _stop_ picking on our brother, please?" Bella shot him a glare, knowing very well that his nitpicky attitude was stemming mostly from tension, not from any anger at her – though the feelings were very hard to keep separate.

"If you do the same," Edward countered. "Darling, you have to understand. Emmett's just being Emmett. You haven't been around long enough to –"

"I've been around _plenty _long –"

" – _long enough_ to know that this is just his way of making things right. If he begs forgiveness, she'll just hold out to make him beg more. Teasing is the only way it will work, and Rosalie will give in soon enough. She's threatened divorce before. They've even been _separated_ before. Epic fights are what they're known for, just as much as their other, shall we say, epic activities."

Bella tried very hard not to laugh. Here she was, trying to stay mad at him while he was cracking jokes. Honestly, his idiotic ideas about ways to mend a relationship…when did Edward Cullen ever know how to solve such problems?

"Haven't you even stopped to think about Rosalie? Think of all she's done for us, for our family." She gestured towards him, as if counting in the presence of their missing daughter. "How can you let Emmett hurt her like this?"

"Hurt _her_?" he repeated. "_She_ is the one who asked for the divorce. He's trying to remedy it in the only way that's fixed things in the past."

Bella grabbed her half-finished letter and stood, staring him down. "Well, heaven forbid you think that's the only way to _fix things_ with me."

She turned sharply on her heel and stalked out of the room, speeding up the stairs – all at once immensely grateful for her inhuman swiftness – and shutting herself in her sitting room, where she found herself still locked up over a full day later.

It wasn't that she was really all that mad at Edward, not at all. He was just being _so stubborn_. His feelings for Rosalie had softened immensely after all her trouble with the change and the baby. Why did he have to be against her now? Rose was doing what she thought was right – and, truth be told, what Bella thought was right too. The problems between the couple had been only getting worse over time, and maybe divorce was the only way to settle it. Not that Bella wanted them to _stay_ divorced. But if Emmett was going to continue being childish and immature, perhaps it was best if they just took a break. An out-and-out divorce sent a severe message to him to get his act together. If only he would get it together faster.

And that was where Edward could come in, if only he would stop being so stoic. His support of his brother could only help him in getting Emmett to see the error of his ways. But no, Edward had to refuse to get involved. Damn him and his Victorian rigidity. Once he made up his mind about something, that was that, and it took nearly moving a mountain – or a cross-continental trip – to change him. And once he was changed, he had such influence and power and care and…

She shut her book with a snap, popping up from her chair for the third time in about an hour and beginning to pace once again. She could go apologize as easy as anything. She could tell him to ignore her dramatics and to forgive her and that maybe they could just ignore the different sides they were on like Alice and Jasper. It wouldn't be hard to just say that, would it? Somehow she found her feet carrying her through the suite to the doorway of his music room and somehow she found her hand raising to knock on the door, nearly there – before she dropped her arm to her side. No, not today. Not yet.

* * *

Edward knew she was there, stopped just outside his door. After all these years together, how could he not be aware of her nearly every moment? She was like an extension of him, just as much as his hand was or his arm or his heart. His heart. He smiled gently at that. If his heart was still working, surely every beat would echo her name. That still didn't make her any easier to agree with.

Yes, he was strong-willed. And that had always been a good thing, in his opinion. Unfortunately, that combined with Bella's forthright attitude occasionally did not forebode well for their marriage. They had had their fights in the past – many much worse than this – but this whole nearly-two-days-in-isolation thing was likely one of the most ridiculous ones they had ever had.

Surely she had to see that he was right, that Emmett was right. Rosalie jumping to file for divorce was just as idiotic as this argument he and Bella were currently having. Rose and Emmett had had millions of arguments before. Like he had told Bella, their fights were always of epic proportion. Heaven forbid Rosalie ever did anything on a small scale. Bella must have known that this was just his sister being overdramatic once again and that siding with her was just as absurd as Rosalie's actions alone.

Perhaps the only reason he was siding with Emmett was to make Rosalie a bit upset – but now it was making Bella upset too. He wasn't sure how long he could stand for that to happen. Maybe he should just give in, quit fighting his brother's fight and support his wife and sister instead. Or maybe just proclaim himself neutral territory like Carlisle and Esme. What was the term Bella had once used? Yes, he'd be Switzerland. Neutral and safe.

And invoking the wrath of Rosalie. Or Emmett. Or both combined, good heavens. Edward sighed, stepping away from his piano to clear his head. If he and Bella could just see eye-to-eye, or at least come to some sort of accord. They could hold off arguing as Jasper and Alice were, perhaps, if she would agree to that. He moved towards the door, ready to open it and ask if such an arrangement could be reached – but then his ears heard her soft footfalls as she stepped away, moving back to her room to lock herself up once again. And so he did the same, moving back to his piano to pound out another mournful melody.

* * *

Emmett was the strongest one in the house, to be sure, but that still didn't make getting pelted with broken sparkplugs much easier when they were thrown from such a pissed-off woman as Rosalie, a woman who also had pretty fair aim.

"What the fuck?!" He jumped up from his chair as four sparkplugs hit him sharply on the left side. Rosalie stood in the doorway to his room, looking mad enough to spit.

"Ruined!" she shrieked, tossing another sparkplug at him and hitting him square in the temple. "Absolutely ruined!"

"Jesus, Rose, stop!" Emmett held up his arms to shield his face and took two more in the solar plexus.

"Just as soon as you stop being a jackass!" she shouted and tossed the final plug, clocking him in the nose before stamping her foot.

"How do you even know I did it? Where's your proof?"

She rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding me? Who else would _ruin_ my brand new sparkplugs by throwing them through the _garbage disposal_? Only an absolute _asshole_ would do that, and you're the only one living in this house."

Emmett stepped close and stared her down. "I beg to differ. I can think of at _least_ one other living in this house."

She arched a golden eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

"Do I need to remind you what happened to my magazines?"

"I threw them out a window, big deal."

"Then explain how my subscription to _Playboy_ got replaced with _Sexy She-Male Monthly_."

Rosalie smirked and said nothing.

Emmett choked out a bitter laugh. "I'll take your silence for an admission. Who's the asshole now?"

Her smirk quickly turned to a glare and she jabbed one long, red-painted nail into his rock-hard chest, pushing him back slightly. "Go ahead. Call me all the names you want, Emmett. It's not going to make me take you back."

"Oh, you think I want you back?" He laughed again. "Get it through your pretty blonde head, _Miss_ Hale, I don't have a single problem staying away."

"Then why all the pathetic attempts at getting my attention, hmmm?" She pointed to one of the discarded sparkplugs on the floor. "Admit it. You don't know how you can live without me."

"Without making you want to scream?" he asked with a cocky grin. "Sure, I'll admit it. I _love_ irritating you. I _live_ for it."

"I'll give you something to live for," she threatened, giving him another shove with her manicured hand. Emmett felt the back of his knees hit the footboard of his bed; he had nowhere else to go, and he wouldn't put it past Rose to dig those scarlet nails across his eyeballs.

"Go ahead, babe," he muttered. "Go right ahead and give it to me."

He wasn't quite sure how it happened. He didn't even remember how he got undressed so fast, though maybe the shreds of fabric under the bed explained it later. Whatever it was, it only took four point three seconds before he was thrusting into her, his thick forearms pressed into the mattress on either side of her sinfully gorgeous body while she writhed underneath him, the white expanse of her neck, shoulders, and breasts exposed and inviting. His eyes locked with hers as he slammed into her body, his breathing heavy to match hers but breaking into a deep groan when she tugged him down to her and bit him sharply on the neck. The venom stung like fire and tingled painfully and only made him work faster. The raw, animal feeling of it all tore through him, and he leaned down to sink his teeth into the top of her left breast, a bite for a bite. She'd kill him for it later – but he had left a mark, a permanent one, he knew it. And she'd think of him every time she saw it. A slightly sadistic grin on his face, he pumped into her harder, faster, tugging her leg up onto his shoulder, not caring about the noises he made and the faces he pulled as she tightened around him, finishing hard and bringing him to the brink with her.

They didn't say anything in the moments after. Emmett pulled out gently and fell onto the bed next to her – next to her, but not touching her. Rosalie lay oh so still for a minute or two or twenty…then reached down beside the bed to grab the tatters of her clothes and left the room without a single word.


	6. Rhett and Scarlett

As much of the family was struggling along, Esme was struggling right along with them. Having Carlisle nearby made it easier, as did keeping busy. She was currently hard at work removing the lacquer from an antique sideboard she had bought at an estate sale for only $100. With skill and a bit of luck, she was hoping to restore it to the beauty it had had in its prime, which apparently had been roughly around 1910. In the meantime, she was working diligently – if only to distract herself from the tumult in the house. Bella and Edward were apparently not speaking to each other, Jasper and Alice had locked themselves in the library, and Rosalie and Emmett were…well, yesterday's occurrence had given her a moment of hope that things would be alright, but then it just got worse. Much, much worse.

She wondered for a moment if perhaps Rosalie leaving would be a good idea. Or Emmett. Or maybe everyone just needed to…_no_. No, she was just getting upset. That was a crazy idea. They were a _family_. They would always be a family. How could she possibly think of separating her children like that? Of _being_ separated from them? Things would come to rights sooner or later. Hopefully sooner.

She tried a little harder with the lacquer thinner, wearing down the varnish with an overeager arm that came from her bottled-up frustrations. In a moment, the beautiful woodworking below was revealed, no longer covered up by some seventies glamour-obsessed lacquer fetishist. _Imagine ruining such a piece that way_, Esme tutted to herself as the door to the kitchen, her private workspace, swung open and Edward walked in.

"Esme, have you seen my green scarf?" her son asked casually, leaning against the cabinetry.

Esme's mind flickered to thoughts of the scarf, a beautiful cashmere one Bella had bought him last winter and that he had torn a hole in during a hunt last week, a hole she had only just repaired. Before a word could pass from her lips, Edward had smiled and murmured a "Thank you."

"It's in my mending drawer," she said, nodding over to the panels at his right. Edward opened the drawer and pulled the long seamless scarf from inside, inspecting it with a careful eye.

"And you can't even tell it was ever torn," he said with a smile as he came over to her.

She smiled too, slightly embarrassed but pleased by her son's praise.

"What would we do without you?" he asked, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"Have ratty scarves and holey socks, I suppose," she said wryly, putting down her varnish-remover and turning to face her son.

"You know we'd miss you much more than that," Edward said with a hint of knowing to his voice. Esme narrowed her eyes at him, inspecting her son. Had he heard all of what she had been thinking about the family splitting up?

"Yes," he replied simply. "Do you really think we need to part ways just for things to get back to normal?"

"I didn't say that," she defended herself. "I only want everyone to be happy. And I don't know how we can possibly achieve that with everyone being upset with everyone else."

"You can't interfere all the time, Esme. I know that well. You just have to let things take its course."

She smiled a bit then and said softly, "You sound like your father." She could see Edward trying to hide the puff of pride that swelled within him as he fought to maintain a serious demeanor.

"Well, Carlisle would say the same thing," he went on. "Everyone should make their own decisions, I suppose. Even about whether to stay or to go."

"Or to forgive or hold grudges?" Esme said suggestively, thinking of a certain brown-haired girl she knew.

Edward set his jaw. "Perhaps."

Esme stepped away from her half-finished project, wiping her hands on her trousers. "Yes, you are rather like Carlisle. But it's funny sometimes how much you and Rosalie favor each other."

Leaving that thought to echo in his head, she moved to the back staircase, climbing the flight that would take her to the bedroom she shared with Carlisle.. When her kitchen-cum-workspace wasn't a respite enough, the bedroom provided a safe haven from the rest of the house as well as a place to let her thoughts roll about in her head – hopefully without too many of the others listening in. The bed looked so comfortable and inviting that she couldn't help but crawl in, even in the middle of the morning, and close her eyes, pretending as if to go to sleep. She almost wished for the ability now, just to block out the turmoil in the household. Her eyes still closed, she rolled onto her side, curling her knees in to stay tucked up like a little ball. She lay there, relaxing her mind and body, emptying her head of thoughts for a while…until she heard footsteps just outside the door – Carlisle's step, sure and quick.

He came through the door with a frown on his face, the same frown that had been there for weeks now, ever since the day this had all started. He was feeling the stress just as much as they all were…but his frown broke into an endearing smile when his eyes met hers.

"Darling," he said simply, and the word rang through her like birdsong. She held out her hand for him, willing him to come to her. Come he did, sliding onto the bed beside her and pulling her into him, his strong body against hers, his cheek resting on her head. Curled up against his chest like this, it wasn't all that hard, Esme thought, to believe they could somehow make it through.

* * *

Edward felt Esme's admonishing pierce through him the minute she left the kitchen. Was he really behaving as badly as his divorce-happy sister? Heaven help him if he should ever be equated with Rosalie. He nearly winced at the thought as he began his walk upstairs to his room. Did Esme think he was being just as stubborn, just as obstinate? True, the argument with Bella had lasted far longer than he had meant it to, but it was truly her fault. She was the one who had been so stubborn. Yes, that was it! _Bella_ was the one acting like Rosalie. Bella was responsible for…well, not all of the problems. No, that was most certainly blamed on Rose. But even so, Bella was being rather ridiculous, what with rarely straying from her room and –

And of course _now_ was the one time in days she would stray.

Bella stood in the hallway, her arms full of dirty laundry on its way to be washed, her face just as surprised and off-guard as he felt. Yet even in her surprise, she was still so incredibly lovely that his heart nearly started beating again. Her white teeth bit down on her reddened lower lip, and he longed to do the same thing…but he couldn't. Not when she was being so stubborn. She was probably looking at him and thinking of how mad she was or how ridiculous he was being or…

"I'm sorry."

Edward was shocked to hear the words he had just said come from his wife's mouth at the same time. He fought for a moment to penetrate her mind, hoping to see inside…and was of course disappointed for the millionth time in years. It didn't matter. She was apologizing, same as he. She was sorry they were fighting and things could (at least begin to) get back to normal. With a deep, relieved sigh, he leaned his forehead down to hers, glad that perhaps they could start over once again.

* * *

Downstairs in the library, Jasper too gave a relieved sigh. The tension in the house had alleviated slightly with Bella and Edward's reconciliation, which meant the stress upon his empathic shoulders was also lessening.

Unfortunately, it wasn't lessening enough. From somewhere on the same level of the house, Jasper could feel a sudden rush of anger flood his senses, and he left the library to see what was going on – and to see if he could stop it before his head exploded.

Of course, it was Rosalie and Emmett. The two of them had been the cause of his troubles for months now, and their divorce had only worsened it. His head was pounding, his skin tingling with the force of their ire, and he longed for them to just shut up and make up so that their hatred could stop being his. At this point, he was almost anxious for one of them to move out, if only to ease his own suffering.

Currently, Rosalie and Emmett were standing in the living room having one of their bimonthly screaming matches with one of Esme's painstakingly reupholstered antique loveseats between them, rather ironically. Jasper tiptoed to the doorway, looking over Bella and Edward's shoulders at the two of them as they hurled insults.

"What started it this time?" he asked softly, listening as Emmett called his ex-wife an 'egotistical auto-whore.'

"Rose let some kid from the university drop her off after class," Bella explained in hushed tones. "She made sure Emmett saw her kiss his cheek –"

"He's this upset over _that_?" Jasper tried hard not to smirk.

She shook her head. "No, she also ran his Babe Ruth card through the shredder."

"Good Lord…"

"Well, she _was_ retaliating," Edward threw in.

"For what?"

Here, Bella smirked. "Emmett took all her panties and made them crotchless."

As Jasper was stifling a guffaw, Carlisle came up behind the two of them, a frown on his face. "Again?" he asked disdainfully.

Edward nodded. "Again. They haven't broken anything yet though."

He spoke too soon. The second the words left his mouth, Emmett picked up a beautiful Tiffany vase from the buffet and tossed it at Rosalie, missing her head by an inch – purposefully, they all knew. Emmett was angry with Rose, to be sure, but he'd never intentionally hurt her. Rosalie was another story. She picked up a handful of rocks Esme had placed around a bamboo plant and began pelting them at Emmett's body, hitting his arms and chest with deadly accuracy.

"Can you stop them, you think?" Carlisle asked, his eyes meeting Jasper's.

"I can try," he offered. Lately, his skill with them had been lessening. Whether it was from overuse or the fact that they were just too angry, he didn't know, but it was worth another shot. He concentrated heavily, channeling their anger into himself and sending it back out as waves of calm, waves that seemed to slow Emmett down but had no affect on Rosalie, who had now moved onto throwing the stalks of bamboo themselves.

"Rosalie, really," Carlisle beseeched, "this all has to stop."

"Stop? You want me to stop? Make _him_ stop!" She was sounding like a petulant child, but, by the looks of it, obviously didn't care as she started tossing anything within reach, Emmett's forced calm making him an easy target. The most he could do was catch each item and throw it to the ground, letting it shatter at his feet rather than being angrily tossed back at her. After the rocks and bamboo, he broke everything she hurled, including the small sculptures and vases of flowers and a padded ottoman and –

A thundering of feet on the stairs took Jasper's attention for just a second, small feet making such a big noise as Alice raced into the room, her face filled with upset and terror.

"No, don't!" Alice managed to shout – just as Rosalie grabbed the next thing within reach…a large wooden cross. The cross that had decorated every house they had ever lived in. The cross Carlisle's human father had made with his own two hands so long ago.

It seemed to fly across the room in slow motion, Rosalie's face too irate to realize what she had done and Emmett much too stubborn to hesitate catching it and cracking it in his strong hands, splintering it into two pieces. Only after it had broken did either of them stop to look and actually understand their destruction. Emmett was too aghast to say anything. He just tried lamely to put the pieces back together as Rosalie gave a sputtering, insufficient apology.

"Oh, Carlisle, I'm so, so sorry," she mumbled, her yellow eyes wide and her face even paler than normal. Jasper glanced to his left where his father stood, the anger that poured off of him no doubt felt by every single person in the room, empathic or non.

Rosalie was still babbling on, unaware of the fury bubbling up inside Carlisle, growing more and more with each passing second. "Really, I'll fix it, we'll get –"

"_Enough!_" Carlisle thundered. His eyes were blazing black and his voice was like none Jasper had ever heard come from the continually calm man. Everyone in the room froze, Alice on the stairs, Rosalie and Emmett near the loveseat, and himself, Bella, and Edward in the door just a foot away from his quivering frame. No one dared to speak at the patriarch let out a stream of harsh words such as he never had before.

"That is _enough_! What you two are doing is _ruining_ this house _and_ this family!" He turned to Rosalie and fixed her with a stare. "_You_ need to stop the dramatics." He turned and did the same to Emmett. "And _you_ need to quit being childish. I am sick and tired of all this foolishness causing everyone pain. Do you stop to think about what you're doing to your brothers and sisters? Your mother? Me?"

Emmett and Rosalie both hung their heads, ashamed.

"No, you don't," Carlisle went on. "All you think about is yourselves, something we've _never_ done in this family. And if you begin to break off without thinking of others, soon we'll all fall apart. You are _both_ causing us all so much destruction and heartache that if you cannot get your act together, I will _not_ hesitate to throw the both of you out."

Every pair of eyes in the room widened, hearing the truth in his words, and every pair followed him as he stalked up to Emmett, wrenching the broken shards of his father's cross from his hands. Carlisle paused, his eyes mournful as he stared over the pieces, before walking up the stairs, brushing past Alice, and going into his room, slamming the door behind him.

The room was quiet, and the air was a mixture of anger and sadness and shock that coursed through Jasper twofold. No one spoke, no one moved, until Emmett opened his mouth.

"Way to go, Rose," he muttered, kicking at the pile of broken wood and glass at his feet.

"Me?" she cried. "_I'm_ not the one who broke the cross."

Perhaps it was the empathy. Perhaps it was because, beside Carlisle, he was the oldest. Perhaps he was just fed up. Either way, Jasper found himself shouting next, "Will you both just _shut up_?"

Again, the two of them were quiet, this time watching as he stalked up the stairs, his jaw set tensely as he tried to ignore the barrage of feelings coming from every square inch of the house. It was driving him insane, this constant pulling and pushing of emotion. First Carlisle and Esme were calm and then they were at their wits end. Bella and Edward were mad at each other and then they were back to being fine. Rosalie and Emmett either hated each others guts or were fucking like animals. And Alice, heaven bless her, was trying so hard not to mention anything that all her feelings were stored up inside like a champagne bottle that had been shaken and was ready to explode – which was just about how he was feeling soaking all those sensations in.

By the time he had gotten to the bedroom, he had nearly made up his mind on what he had to do. Leaving was something he had done a few times before, either in spurts lasting a few days or a few months. Each time it had helped to clear his head, to set him straight. Only thing was, he had come back every other time…and if things didn't get better around here, he couldn't see himself doing that again. There was, however, something he hoped would be different.

"Going away again?"

Alice was poised in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, her face soft and sad and only slightly disappointed. Jasper gave a tight little nod and watched as she silently moved to the closet, coming out a moment later with an armful of his shirts and pants, placing them on the bed, and pulling one of her antique Louis Vuitton trunks from under the bed.

"Here, fold those and put them in," she said, pointing to his clothes before disappearing back into the closet and walking out with another pile of clothing, lying them on the bed next to his before again going back to the closet. Automatically, Jasper reached for the next article to fold – but stopped when it wasn't the cotton button-up shirt he expected it to be. Instead, his hand had closed around a floor-length dress made of filmy, chocolate-colored fabric – Alice's dress, one she hadn't even worn yet, by the look of the tags still on it. He glanced up and found her staring at him from the closet, a pile of red-soled high heels in her hands.

"You didn't think I was letting you go alone, did you?" she asked with a smile – a slightly sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. Jasper smiled too, coming over to where she stood and wrapping his arms around her, shoes and all, grateful for the billionth time in his existence that she was present in it.


	7. Ferdinand and Miranda

Everyone was gathered on the front porch Friday evening, even Rosalie and Emmett, though they stood with Edward, Bella, and Esme between them. All eyes were trained on the front drive as Jasper slipped the last small bag into the trunk and shut it gently before taking his wife's hand and walking towards their family members grouped near the steps.

"I suppose this is it," he said softly, looking over each pair of eyes and then down to his small wife. She was silent, a gentle smile forced onto her face.

Esme gave a choked little cry and pressed her knuckles to her mouth to stifle any more. Her other hand was quickly grasped by Rosalie who gave it a reassuring squeeze. Emmett, the one without shyness, too many manners, or a strict Victorian sensibility, was the first to move, striding down the steps to shake his brother's hand and tug his sister in for a hug that lifted her feet high off the ground. Alice gave a little laugh as he put her down, her smile genuine now.

Bella stepped down next, kissing their cheeks and trying to smile, while Edward followed, shaking Jasper's hand and bending down to kiss his sister's forehead.

"Keep an eye out for us, won't you?" he whispered into her ear. She nodded silently and hugged him tight, turning to Rosalie next. The blonde was looking thoroughly upset, as if she blamed herself for this turn of events – something Edward knew she did, and something he blamed her for too but wouldn't phrase aloud.

Carlisle, his face still tersely set, came down, clapping a hand on Jasper's shoulder, no words shared but the ones in their eyes.

"You'll visit, won't you?" Esme asked softly, her voice close to cracking.

"Of course," Jasper replied as he put his arms around her. Esme stayed there for a moment, hugging tight to her son as Carlisle embraced their daughter. Carlisle took a step back, letting Esme and Alice have their final moment, silently clinging to each other, the daughter that had brought so much joy into their lives and the mother she had always wanted. He held his wife upright after she kissed the girl one last time, bringing her back to the steps to watch as Jasper and Alice made their way to the car, getting in with one last look and finally driving off.

With Carlisle's help, Esme was carried upstairs and placed in the armchair near her favorite window on the landing. Carlisle sat in the ottoman, her feet resting on his lap, and he began to rub them gently just as a small light melody began wafting through the air towards them.

"Edward," she said softly, leaning her head back on the chair and closing her eyes to better appreciate the tune.

"He's a good man," Carlisle murmured.

She nodded. "A good man." Her voice caught just slightly, both of them noticing but not commenting. They sat there for a long time, each with their own thoughts that were oftentimes shared but never verbalized, staying until the twilight sky darkened and the moon rose high overhead.

"I should go see how everyone is," Esme said, swinging her feet down to the ground.

"Are you sure? You don't have to."

She smiled softly, sadly. "I'm their mother. I want to."

Carlisle nodded, keeping inside the idea that perhaps mourning for a little while longer was what she needed. When Edward had left all those years ago, Esme had been near non-functioning for at least a week. And the circumstances that had brought her to him…well, suffice it to say, losing a child was a subject he always worried about in his wife's case. And so he followed her down the stairs, the music still playing after them, and walked with Esme into the living room where Emmett was lying on the couch – and was hurriedly sitting up to hide the fact that his feet had been on the arm. But Esme just gave him that same sad little smile before moving down the hall, past the table where Rosalie was placing a fresh vase of flowers, though she did stop long enough to touch the girl's shoulder, continuing on towards the doors that lead outside. Still Carlisle followed, stepping out onto the patio and then the grass that followed.

Esme stopped there, her bare toes wriggling among the blades and her shoulders heaving up and down with the great breaths of air she was taking in. Carlisle stepped closer, being as silent as he could. Not silent enough. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his.

Neither of them said anything, but she extended her hand towards him with a more than slightly beseeching look. He reached out, his fingers curling around hers and pulling her into him.

"Thank you," she whispered softly. "Again…thank you."

"I did nothing but hold your hand, my love."

"Yes. Thank you."

* * *

Alice had only seen the penthouse in pictures, and they really didn't do it justice. Their new home was in one of the high-rises in downtown Saskatoon on the very highest level, some thirty four floors up. The ceilings were high and vaulted, the lighting impeccable, the balconies gorgeous, and she was sure she'd have the most amazing time designing it all. It still wasn't home.

She put the purse she was carrying on the marble kitchen countertop, pulling out her keyring and cell phone. She fingered the shiny new key the realtor had given her as she dialed, leaning against the countertop that was just a mite too tall for her.

"Hello?"

Alice smiled at the sound of that voice, one she missed despite just hearing it some seven hours ago. "Hi, Em. It's Alice."

"Oh, hey!" He could hear the happiness in her big brother's tone, and it filled her to no end. "How's it going?"

"Good," she lied. "We just got everything moved into the apartment."

"Does it look nice?"

"It's…bare."

She glanced out towards the living room where the only objects within were the boxes they had sent along earlier that week. Her shoulders slumped just slightly, and a cool pair of hands came to massage her, strengthen her. She leaned back against Jasper's chest as Emmett laughed.

"Oh, Esme wants to know if you want her to ship out your bed and couch?" Emmett asked, making her long for home. But it wasn't the home she remembered, so what was the use?

"No, that's fine," Alice replied. "We're going to go shopping on Sunday. It'll be cloudy then."

"What about here? I was hoping to get up a touch football game with Edward."

"No, it'll be nice. Stay in the backyard and you'll be fine."

"Tell him I said hello," Jasper interjected, bending down to kiss her neck before moving into the living room and beginning to unpack.

"Jasper says hello," she repeated obediently.

"Tell the man he left all his X-Box games here and I am _not_ returning them."

She smiled. "I will. I'll talk to you soon, Emmett. Tell everyone we love them."

"Everyone?" Emmett's voice was slightly whiny, and she even missed that.

"Yes. _Everyone_. Love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

She closed the phone, her fist moving a little too fast. She put the mangled heap of wiring and plastic on the counter before going to join Jasper in the living room. He was halfway behind the TV, plugging the final cords in before sliding back out and reaching for the remote.

"Ready to see if it works?" he asked, trying his best to sound genial.

Alice sat crossed-legged on the floor next to him and nodded. Jasper raised the remote and pressed the power button, turning the 40" screen on to a news program currently warning viewers about the fourth animal to escape from a northern Saskatchewan testing facility in the past year. She frowned, but was secretly glad for the distraction. "Shouldn't they be a little more responsible?"

Jasper shrugged and put an arm around her shoulders. "I suppose. But bears are big animals. They probably get themselves out. And I'm not one to argue when there's fresh meat wandering around." He grinned then to make her laugh, and she did.

"You're going to have to go hunting in a few days. Maybe outside the city near the highway," she suggested, keeping the subject well away from family or home.

He nodded. "Sounds delicious."

She tilted her head up to kiss his cheek, sighing gently against the skin there. He turned his head and his lips met hers, caressing and soft and strong and pulling back to whisper "Thank you."

* * *

They all missed them, separately and differently and equally too.

Rosalie stood and stared for a while at the empty spot next to her car, her eyes focused on the dark patch on the garage floor and thinking she'd have to tighten the Porsche's – but no, she couldn't.

Emmett lay on his back in the front yard, tossing the football higher and higher into the air, bored nearly to tears that he was the only one there to catch it, or that there wasn't a little sister to toss until she screamed bloody murder.

Carlisle, after a great deal of time spent locked in his study with the shards of his father's cross, left the house, only to spend an even greater deal of time at the town library, poring over books he had already read three times before.

Esme went about business is usual. There is laundry to be done and whatnots to be dusted and furniture to finish refinishing and doors to be answered and – no, she hadn't seen any escaped bears within the last two months, she answered with a wry smile, thinking of the two she and Alice had found and…

Edward, in the meantime, gave up the dulcimer and had returned to the piano, hammering out tunes and strictly avoiding composing, fearful that the feelings in the house and the thoughts of the others will come out in minor chords and dissonance in nine-eight time. He finished his playing well before nightfall, also fearful that that might cause him to turn to Moonlight Sonata or _Der Hölle Racht_. That night, he had ended with something happier but slower, _Nocturne in E-flat Minor_, and closed his piano, going down the hall to his room to find Bella coping in her own way.

There was a large flat box lying open on the bed, its contents presumably around Bella's body. The black, floor-length, strapless gown hugged her curves, at least until her knees, where the fabric flared out like a mermaid's tail, sweeping over the plush carpet. The low neckline skimmed the tops of her breasts, opening just enough to please the eye. Her shoulders were bare, her hair tied in a low bun that touched her neck just _so_ that he had to use all his restraint to keep from moving it up so he could kiss her right there at her nape.

Her eyes met his in the mirror, and all thoughts of seduction went away when she smiled sadly. "Alice's Christmas present, remember?" she said, nearly choking on the words. He walked to her, wrapping his arms around her and letting her bury her face in his neck. His lips did press against her then, but only the top of her head. He realized now how much she missed the others, enough to put on couture she had received as a Christmas gift and promptly hidden in the closet, never to be worn until this moment after the giver had gone away.

"You look lovely," he whispered softly to her.

She pulled back a distraught face and looked up at him. "It's just the dress. A…she picked it out."

The inability to say their sister's name stung and Edward pressed his forehead to his wife's, closing his eyes so that he might have just a moment's peace. It was at times like these he was glad he couldn't hear inside the head he so often wanted to.

Bella pulled away suddenly, her hands gripping the bodice of the dress, trying in vain to push it down. "I can't wear it anymore," she said, her voice tinged with desperation. "I'll ruin it, it's not for me, I can't…"

He watched for a second as she struggled, her arms straining to reach to the back of the dress, before he moved, going to unzip it for her, leaving her in her undergarments. Only when the dress was on the floor in a heap of smooth black fabric did Bella stop struggling and begin emitting choked little sobs with no tears coming from them. Edward scooped her up, placing her on the bed and pulling the blankets up to cover her skin.

"No," Bella said, her voice suddenly clear as she pushed the blankets down. "No, I'm not sick. I'm not crazy. Don't put me to bed."

He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away at the food of the bed, fairly sure he knew where this bout of hysteria followed by a refusal to be coddled was coming from.

"Just…just make me forget."

Something in her voice made him look back towards her to find that the passion he thought he had imagined was indeed there. Certainly it was passion founded in a desire for distraction, but it was passion nonetheless and he was there to meet it. Edward moved to hover over her body, ghosting his lips over hers so that they barely met.

Bella took charge, letting him know just what she needed as she pulled him down to her, crushing their mouths together in a needy, wanting kiss. Edward growled against her lips, feeling himself starting to quickly stiffen, his cock pointed towards her even in his jeans.

But she knew what to do, and she did it quickly. His pants were pushed down, not off, and her panties were merely pulled aside before he was in her, thrusting and groaning, Bella's hands gripping his sides and his shoulders and his hips before she slithered out from underneath him, never breaking contact as she pushed him down onto the bed, rising on top of him, watching him while she moved up and down. Edward's hands did the wandering then, settling on her full breasts, massaging her while she coaxed herself to orgasm, collapsing on his chest while he finished, then spooning against his side in the aftermath.


	8. Bingley and Jane

To be honest, Carlisle probably hadn't written in a week. And his research had been minimal, at best. Truly, a lot of the books he read were on wood carving and repair, held tightly in his hands as he read in the hopes of restoring his father's cross. Maybe it was ridiculous to think he could repair it. Maybe he was overreacting. He and his father had never been the best of friends – not that that sort of father-son relationship existed in those days – but he had followed in the man's footsteps. He had respected him, and his only memory lay in that cross. And for that, Carlisle would do everything he could to fix it.

Unfortunately, that meant his attentions had been occupied elsewhere. He had knowingly neglected his book, which was so very close to being finished. He hadn't been hunting in over a week. And his family had been likewise ignored, even his wife, and for that he felt awful. He really had to shape up, and he ought to start now. Closing the chapter he had been reading on wood glue, Carlisle stood from behind his desk and headed out of his study.

He came downstairs to find that in her emotion and stress, Esme had cleaned the entire house from top to bottom, and was currently on her hands and knees under the dining room table, scrubbing the underside of it. Her face was concentrated and her hand was moving so fast he was surprised she hadn't broken through the heavy wood of the table.

"Esme?" he called out, bending down to look at her. She stopped in her ministrations for just a moment, glancing over at him before returning to her task.

"I must've missed the marks underneath here when I bought it," she said. "Hand me the polish?"

He gave her the small bottle, watching silently as she used an old rag to bring the already-gleaming table legs to an even brighter shine. Cleaning was her way of coping, he knew, but he had never seen her quite so intense. She wrapped the rag around the bottle when she was finished and moved out from under the table.

"I have the what-not to polish next, and the sidetables," she said quickly, distractedly. "And I suppose I'll clean the glass in the curio cabinet and sweep down the porch. Then wash out the linens and reorganize the cabinet and –"

"Esme!" Carlisle almost had to shout it to get her attention. His hands were on her shoulders, calming her with his touch, but he could still feel her body thrumming underneath his palms. "You can't keep stressing yourself like this. You need to calm down."

"I can't calm down," she said, and ever her voice was stressed. "It's a coping mechanism I suppose, to get over…well, everything that's happened in the last few months."

He nodded. "I know, darling, but you have to relax. Seeing you like this…it can't be good for the others, because it's certainly not good for me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Come. Hunt with me. Take your mind away for a bit."

Esme frowned, a worried look on her face. "I don't know…"

"You don't know?" He smiled, seeing if perhaps a light tease would make her better. "How can you not know unless you try? When's the last time you ate?"

"Five weeks ago."

Carlisle blanched. "Five _weeks_?"

She nodded. "I just haven't been…hungry."

The physician in him came out and he took her face in his hands, tilting her head this way and that, peering in her eyes and throat before looking at her seriously. Something was wrong, _very_ wrong, if she hadn't succumbed to her hunger in so long yet was still functioning at such a rate. "We're going hunting. Now."

His hands moved to hers, guiding her through the door that led from the dining room into the kitchen. Esme's eyes darted around the room as they entered, making Carlisle wonder…then see what she was looking at it, something so hard to miss he questioned how he had not seen it the second he walked in. The entire room – every plate and pan and spare inch of countertop – was crowded with cupcakes, each perfectly frosted and meticulously decorated in every color of the rainbow, enough to feed a small school. Hundreds of beautiful, scrumptious treats…that would go to rot in the Cullen household.

Carlisle tightened his grip on Esme's hand. "Hunting. Now," he said urgently, then muttered under his breath, "Before we both lose our minds."

* * *

_Freelance Webmaster wanted to create and modify websites for various independent companies. Inquiries to T. Cheek, 306-555-2365_.

Jasper filed the number away in his mind to call later, at a more reasonable hour than 2:47 in the morning. In the meantime, he stretched back in his rolling chair, leaning away from his laptop so he could straighten out his long legs. The apartment was entirely decorated now, or at least he thought it was. The furniture was in and a few photos and pieces of art had been hung on the walls, enough to satisfy his simple tastes. That didn't stop Alice from bringing new things back to the penthouse to "make it more homey," she said. He doubted to her it would ever be so, but he kept his mouth shut.

Alice had been handling the situation very well. She had been quiet, yes, but she had started smiling after about a day or so of keeping herself shut in. When they had gone hunting yesterday, she hadn't eaten anything despite his worries that she was looking _too_ pale, but she had gone happily with him, following him into the forests just outside the city and keeping an eye on the future to make sure they'd be undiscovered. He had drunk his fill and she had been there for him after and life had been as near perfect as it could get, all things considered. Yes, he was much happier in their own place away from the turmoil and emotion at home, but he still did miss his family very much…and Alice's sadness at being away from them was too much to bear on its own sometimes.

Currently, she was shut up in the bedroom she had turned into a studio, working diligently on her next packet of designs to be sent to the production team in Europe. She didn't like anyone to see them until all 50 or so of her final sketches were completed, but Jasper could tell from her emotions – other than her intermittent melancholy – that she was pleased with what she was doing, but also very, very busy. When they weren't out on a hunt, on the phone with the family, or having quiet time together, she was shut up in her studio, emerging infrequently and asking not to be disturbed except for when her P.A. or publicist or manufacturer called. Jasper was almost happy to disturb her then, especially when it was one of the days she locked herself away for hours.

This time it was her French publicist, a twittery young woman who always called around three in the morning with a thick accent Jasper had to always take a moment to decipher. He put her on hold and knocked on the studio door. Alice poked her head out, obscuring the room behind her.

"It's Sabine," Jasper said, holding the phone out. Alice slipped from the studio, her pincushion fastened to her wrist by a little Velcro strip, and took the phone, holding it to her ear as she walked to the desk. Jasper half-listened to her fast-paced French, more focused instead on eyeing the inside of the studio beyond the door she had left slightly open. He could see her desk piled with forms and letters and a little pink laptop, a dress form half-covered in green satin strips intricately woven together, and the wall beyond where her bulletin board was absolutely covered in sketches. His curiosity got the better of him – and besides, her back was turned and Sabine could talk for hours – and Jasper tiptoed into the room to stare at his wife's magnificent work.

This time, however, it was too unsettling to be magnificent. Alice was so particular about each and every sketch that she finished, checking in her mind to make sure it would be taken well the in the fashion community; this meant she rarely had more than forty or fifty final sketches to send in per season. But there had to be at least one hundred finished sketches on the board, each fully colored and signed with her initials in the corner. Jasper turned…and found that the other wall was covered in finished designs too, at least another hundred, designs Alice had to have been working on day and night for weeks to complete. And they weren't her normal, delicately done sketches. The ones on the bulletin board were almost all perfect…but some had strange shapes coming off the figures or were colored outside the lines. The drawings on the wall were even more obscure and messy, some not even looking like dresses at all but rather like large impressionist blobs fluttering against the wall like colorful, mystifying birds. One wasn't even a dress at all, just a large charcoal scribble on a blank sheet of paper. What had happened to her? What was happening now? How had she found the time for it all? She wasn't a slave to her work…or at least he thought. This proved something to the contrary…and also something to worry him.

He moved to the desk, going through the papers there, hoping to find something that would explain her excessive amount of work…and the steady decline in her talent. Perhaps the production company had wanted more than just the normal amount. Maybe she was expanding her line and had forgotten to tell him. Maybe she was testing out some new style of drawing or wanted to change careers and become an artist again or maybe she was just expressing stress she couldn't give to him. But shouldn't he have felt that anyways? He felt her sadness so keenly. How could he have missed this?

"Jazz?"

Alice was standing in the open doorway, the phone clutched to her chest. Jasper froze, a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"_Sabine, je te rappelle_," she murmured into the phone before hanging up and putting it down on the bookshelf just inside the studio door. He met her gaze, watching the upset and questions and strange and infrequent anger building up there and feeling it spark in the air around him.

"Alice," he said, slow and pleading, hoping to ease her down with his voice and his gift. But over time, Alice had become almost immune to his charms, and they worked only to lessen her emotions, not to erase them entirely.

"Don't you dare, Jasper," she said, waving a hand at him to stop his ministrations. "_You_ are the one who went snooping. What are you doing in here when I asked you to wait until I was done?"

"Me?" He gawked at her. "What is all this? Why have you done so many sketches? And…and what's with the change in your work?" It was the easiest way he could make the blow, and he prayed it wouldn't make her angry…or angrier.

"How do you know this isn't the way I always work?" she asked tersely. The question was a good one; she never let anyone see her process, only the final product. Even so, she had never had her own office before, just a simple easel and a sketchbook in their bedroom, and the papers that were thrown away each time had been minimal, with Alice drawing only what she knew would be the best reviewed. This was not like before, not at all.

"I know it isn't," he replied simply.

"I never let you see before, how can you know?" Her anger was unlike her…but they had never been away from the Cullens before, at least not since becoming one of the family. She had a right to be angry at him, but he also had the responsibility of making sure she was alright. Because if something was wrong with Alice, something would most certainly be wrong with him too.

"Because I know _you_, Alice. This isn't like you. Why are you working this way?"

"I don't know."

"Is it your manufacturer? Are they making you do this?"

"I don't know."

"Please, Alice, just tell me. What's going on?"

"I don't _know_! Stop asking!"

Her scream pierced his ears and made the glass in the studio windows shake. And she shook too. His heart as well. He bit the inside of his cheek nervously, worried that things were irreparably wrong, that they would never be the same, that he had done the worst thing possible by taking her out of their home.

But then her shoulders curled inward and she started to sob and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

She buried her face in his chest, her voice breathless. "Oh, God, Jazz, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I don't know what came over me, I just got so mad and…I don't know where all these emotions are coming from…where anything's coming from. I'm sorry….I'm sorry….I'm…"

"Shhhhh." He smoothed a hand over her cheek. "Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out soon."

And he prayed like fury they would. Slowly, Jasper led Alice over to the sofa, easing her down next to him and letting her curl up at his side. She didn't say a word, and neither did he. There would be time for questions later, time for investigations and worries then. Not now. Not –

Alice grew stiff in his arms for a moment before sitting up and looking him in the eye, her face very pale and very frightened.

"What is it?" he asked, knowing that look on her face well; she had just seen something, and it was not good at all. Alice's lips only trembled out one word.

"Esme."

* * *

"Please, Esme, won't you at least try?" Carlisle pleaded as they emerged from the forest, his thirst satiated and his wife still unable to drink. A reluctance to hunt was something Esme occasionally experienced, especially if the prey they found was a mother with her young, but she had never gone this long without feeding. Carlisle had never known anyone who could; usually one of their kind went mad with hunger within three weeks. Yet here Esme was, five weeks since her last meal and still refusing to eat despite how much he begged.

"I can't, Carlisle," she replied, her voice upset and tense. "I can't kill something so unnecessarily. I'm just not hungry."

They walked across the backyard to the house, stopping to stand on the patio, Carlisle's hands clenched at his sides in frustration and Esme's arms curled protectively around her middle, as if she could hide her abnormal abstinence that way.

"Is there anything else wrong?" he asked, trying to sound gentle and failing in his stress. "Anything you haven't told me?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't have to eat yet I still have energy. A _lot_ of energy. I cleaned the entire house twice yesterday."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you…I was already worrying myself." He could see then the flicker of fear in her eyes, still golden despite everything, and he immediately felt guilty for being so terse. "I think there might be something really wr–"

Her voice cut off abruptly, halfway through the word, and her amber eyes glazed over as if she wasn't really there. Carlisle called her name, loudly, hoping it was just a moment's distraction. When she didn't respond…when she started to slide to the ground in an unconscious movement…he grabbed her under her arms and moved her to one of the patio lounges, laying her down on it quickly and yelling for Rosalie, Edward, anyone to come help.

She wasn't breathing and her heart wasn't beating and it took Carlisle a few seconds to remember they didn't need to be for her…but was she here? Alive, as much as she could be? He peered into her glazed eyes, forcing himself to believe that somewhere inside she was still there, able to hear him. But she wasn't _here,_ wasn't herself, wasn't anything like he had ever seen before and –

"Carlisle?" Emmett was there first. When he s"aw Esme lying on the lounge, as still as a corpse, his face blanched, making him look as scared as Carlisle felt. "Oh God, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," Carlisle said hoarsely. "Open the door. Let me take her inside."

Emmett wrenched the door open with such force that the top hinge snapped and it sagged on its frame. Neither of them stopped to contemplate it as Carlisle scooped up his comatose wife and brought her into the house, speeding up the stairs to their room and laying her out on the bed.

"My bag," he said urgently. "In my office."

Emmett was gone for less than five seconds, returning with it, as well as Bella.

"Esme?" the girl asked, her voice high and frightened. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know," he repeated as he took a small light from his bag, using it to peer in her ears and throat and eyes. Those eyes, so glossy and unfeeling and…_deadened_…he had to close them gently, a sob choking in his throat.

"You don't think she…" Emmett let the sentence hang in the air, unable to finish such an awful thought. "She can't be. Can she, Carlisle?"

_I don't know. _The phrase was on his tongue, but he couldn't say it again. Because with each passing second, he worried he _did _know, knew the worst thing that could possibly happen to him had occurred.

"I'll go get Edward. Maybe he can hear her," Bella offered, returning in a moment's time with her husband and Rosalie in tow.

"Carlisle?" Edward asked and reached out to touch his father's arm as the two girls clasped hands nervously.

He couldn't even phrase his worries aloud, but sent his eldest son his frantic thoughts instead. _Edward…she's so still…I can't think…if she…_

Edward nodded curtly, moving to Esme's bedside and leaning over her, his face heavily concentrated. A moment…then two…and he stepped aside, his eyes almost angry.

"Nothing," he murmured. "But that doesn't mean she isn't…remember, I can't hear Bella and –"

"She isn't Bella!" Carlisle found himself shouting, the stress much too much for him to keep up a calm façade.

"Perhaps we should call Alice," Rosalie suggested. "She might know what to do."

The phone rang just as she finished her sentence. Bella, the nearest to it, picked up, her face hopeful. "Alice?"

The entire room waited expectantly…then fell as they heard Jasper's muffled voice through the receiver asking to speak to Carlisle.

"I can't," Carlisle mumbled. "Bella, tell him…"

She spoke into the phone quietly, listening for a moment…before holding it out to the father figure. "He says it's an emergency."

He winced as he took the receiver and held it up to his ear, somehow managing to mutter out a "Hello?"

"Carlisle?" Jasper must've felt the tension even through the phone; his voice reflected everything Carlisle felt.

"Jasper, I…I can't talk now."

"Is it Esme?"

He perked, slightly, hoping perhaps… "Did Alice see something? Please, Jasper, tell me if she knows…"

"No, Alice…" Jasper's voice broke. "Alice said…said something was wrong with Esme and then she…she…Carlisle, she looks like she's…"

It became apparent then. Whatever was happening to Esme had struck Alice too. Was he to lose a daughter as well as his wife? The cruelties of life were too hard to bear.

"Yes, we're…" Carlisle cleared his throat before going on, admitting the unthinkable. "We're getting no response from Esme. She's…she's gone."

Each time her gave those words to a patient's family, it struck his heart. But it was never, _never_ like this, this gut-wrenching, soul-tearing pain he doubt would ever leave again.

"But Carlisle…I can feel Alice. She's not gone, I know it."

A spark of hope. He tried to beat it down, just in case… "What do you mean?"

"When a life ends, I feel nothing. With her…I can still feel her. Or…well, I feel something. She's at rest. She's calm. Nothing more, but it's still something."

Carlisle closed his eyes, praying for a silent, desperate moment. _Please…don't let her go…if I lost her, what would I be?_

"Carlisle, I need to figure out what's wrong. Alice lately…she's been…off. I can't lose her like this."

Jasper's words were Carlisle's thoughts reflected. They were two men of the same vein, and there was strength in that.

Jasper went on. "Let me bring her home. Maybe you can help her, and maybe I can see if Esme…maybe I can help."

Carlisle half wanted to deny him, fearing that if Jasper came…if he didn't feel anything coming from her…if he would have to finally admit that she…

"Yes. Come, and quickly."


	9. Abelard and Heloise

For the first time in a long time, Rosalie found herself with nothing to do. Usually when the heat was on, she was at her absolute best. She performed well under pressure, rising to the challenge and doing whatever was asked of her…or even what wasn't, if it was best. Only this time, there was nothing she could do. There was no one to talk to; everyone was too occupied with their own fear. There was nowhere to go; she didn't want to leave the house in case…in case something happened. There weren't even any cars to work on; they had been cleaned, detailed, and waxed that morning. And so Rosalie packed her satchel and drove to campus, walking into the Introduction to Chemistry Lab class she was taking at the University of Saskatchewan.

It was the first time she had attempted an Engineering degree, but not the first time she had taken Intro to Chem. Her partner, a skinny redheaded sophomore named Ted, was fairly shocked at how easily she breezed through the labs. Rosalie herself was just tired of the mortal's come-ons, which had only gotten worse since she had let him drive her home to make Emmett jealous. Sure, it had worked, but having to deal with constant dinner invitations and remarks on how smart she was just annoyed her now. It was a blessing that Ted was absent that day and Rosalie could finish her lab on solvents and solutes alone.

Her mind wandered as she handled the beakers and flasks, her eyes behind their unnecessary goggles barely focused on what she was doing. She was much too worried about what was going on at home. She prayed – literally kneeled down and prayed – that they wouldn't lose Esme. The mother of their family was too dear a person to even think of living without. And Alice too…how could she go on without her sister? The first sister she had ever really had? Even though they had lived apart the last week, it was still comforting to know she was around. Now, she might be…but Carlisle was hoping that both of them were still there somehow. Jasper was due to arrive just around when she'd return home – though she might beat him there if she finished quickly – and he said that he could still feel something coming from his wife. If Esme was suffering the same as Alice, perhaps she was still waiting within that comatose body somehow.

The professor came around to check her work halfway through the lab, smiling when he found she was done. Rosalie grinned back at him, knowing the older man had a thing for pretty blondes and would excuse her faster if she humored him. The smile was hastily wiped from her face when he let her go – she couldn't even handle faking happiness when things were like this. She had parked the BMW close to the science buildings and it took only a half hour for her to race back home.

Emmett was waiting on the porch when she got there, a comforting sight – for the millisecond until she remembered their divorce. Funny how petty things like divorces seemed when the family was in such a crisis, one even worse than she had stupidly thought theirs to be.

"Is Jasper here yet?" she asked nervously. If he had arrived and seen Esme…

Emmett shook his head. "No, not yet."

She nodded, reassured for a little while longer that perhaps her mother wasn't really gone. Once Jasper came, they could figure out what to do. Maybe Alice could see…

No, she couldn't. Wordlessly, Rosalie moved to sit down next to her ex-husband, her toe tapping nervously to fill the waiting silence.

She looked to the side. Emmett was chewing on his lower lip, his own nervous habit. "Esme?"

Again, he shook his head. "No change."

"And Carlisle?"

"He refuses to leave her."

She sighed, staring at her Manolos as she tapped her toe up and down. Jasper had to come, and quickly, before she went insane with waiting. Before they all did. Carlisle was going insane with worry, and she and Emmett had just gone through the longest conversation they had had in months, and the topic made her want to slit her wrists.

It was a few minutes later that the bright yellow Porsche she had so missed seeing in the garage came flying into the drive, tires squealing as it came to a screeching halt. Both Rosalie and Emmett jumped to their feet, watching as the driver's door flew open and Jasper, his shape blurred as he flipped the seat forward and removed a tiny shape wrapped in a long khaki overcoat from the back bench.

"Oh, God," Emmett whispered as Jasper flew past them, Alice clutched in his arms. He stopped just long enough to wrench the front door open before racing up the stairs, Rosalie and Emmett hot on his heels as he burst into Carlisle and Esme's bedroom. Edward and Bella were there as well, and all heads turned to see the weary-eyed blonde come closer to the bed, placing his comatose wife, their sister and daughter, next to her likewise frozen mother.

The two looked like princesses in a fairy tale, one tiny and fairy-like, the other slender and smooth, both graceful even in sleep, their skin like porcelain and their features angel-perfect, each of them as silent and still and lovely as the Sleeping Beauty in the tales. Carlisle, watching with worried eyes, said nothing as Jasper stood looking over the two of them, the entire room terribly still as he listened, waiting for something, anything, that would show if they still remained or not.

Jasper took a deep breath and turned to his father. Everyone froze, fearing the worst.

"She's there," he murmured. "Still and calm but not gone. They're both…frozen, somehow. I don't understand it."

Carlisle came to stand at the side of the bed near Esme while Jasper stood next to Alice, both of them at their respective wives' head, Carlisle stroking her brow, Jasper's hands shoved in his pockets as he stared at the woman still wrapped in his too-big overcoat.

"She hadn't been hunting in ages…do you think that was it?" Jasper asked, not taking his eyes away from her. Across the room, Bella slid into Edward's arms.

Carlisle pursed his lips. "I'm not sure…Esme wasn't eating either but…I think perhaps that was an effect, not a cause. She had been acting strangely ever since you left, speeding around the house, cleaning like a madwoman."

Jasper looked up then. "Alice was, too. She's been working day and night and…Emmett, go get the leather bag from the car?"

Emmett nodded and was gone in a flash, returning with the bag in hand. Jasper took it and opened the side pocket, pulling out a sheath of papers and holding them out for the doctor to look at.

"See?" he said as Carlisle began flipping through them. "They start as normal drawings but get worse and worse, like she was losing control. Some of them aren't even dresses."

Rosalie watched over her father's shoulder as he went through the papers, showing tidy, elegant garments…then shoddy sketches of half-finished dresses…followed by splotches of color on a page that didn't even look like anything cohesive.

"And this has been going on since you left too, hasn't it?" Carlisle asked, handing the papers to Rosalie.

Jasper nodded. "We even fought about it, just before she…she, um, said she didn't know how to control it. Said she didn't know what was happening to her. Then she had the vision of Esme, and…" He swallowed, his face pained.

"Look," Rosalie said suddenly, holding up a paper. "This one isn't even a drawing. What does it say?"

Alice's handwriting on the page was crooked, nearly illegible, something completely out of character for the girl with the normally elegant calligraphy. Emmett leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the page as Edward and Bella came to look.

"Ursus…something," he said and shook his head. They all stared at the paper, trying to make sense of the scribbled black letters crunched together tightly.

"Americanus?" Edward guessed after a moment.

"What does that even mean?" asked Bella.

"Ursus…ursus is Latin for 'bear,'" Jasper said as if from rote memory.

Rosalie had already flown to the bookshelf, bringing down the encyclopedia and flipping through it rapidly. "_Ursus americanus_…the American Black Bear."

Jasper's face changed into something strange and frightening. "The bears," he murmured. "From the news. The ones that escaped from the testing facility."

Carlisle nodded wordlessly, his eyes flickering to the door. In a moment's time, Edward was gone and back again, holding a newspaper in his hand.

"_Reports of a fourth escaped animal arrived just last week from AMC Laboratories in Nipawin, Saskatchewan_," Edward read aloud. "_AMC, owned by a European-based corporation, denies that the three bear carcasses found in the surrounding area were connected to them, citing the suspicious wounds and lack of bodily fluids. The labs claim such procedures are not connected with their current forms of testing and have invited the media to examine their files should they have any questions that desire answering_."

"Hell yes, we have questions that desire answering," Emmett cried, his fists audibly cracking.

"Emmett," Carlisle said warningly, "we can't rush into this. With…with what we are, we have to be careful."

"Well, what the hell is going on at this lab, that their animals are doing this to them?" Emmett went on, gesturing to the two women lying so still on the bed. "We can't get sick, and here they are, almost _dead_?"

"_Emmett_," Bella hissed, seeing that pale, frightful look in Jasper and Carlisle's eyes.

The man held up his hands in apology. "Sorry, I just mean…this isn't something that happens. We're like…indestructible. Something huge has to be going on."

"Then we need to start researching," Edward said, his voice calm. "We need to find out more about this AMC Laboratories, see if we can find exactly what they're doing and if we can solve it ourselves." He turned to his conscious sister. "Rosalie, you have access to the university library. See if you can find something there."

"The library's closed until seven," she retorted.

He raised an auburn eyebrow. "When has that ever stopped you?"

She smirked then, prideful and agreeing.

Edward went on. "Carlisle, use every contact you have."

The man tore his eyes away from his wife to give him a pleading look.

Edward nodded. "Bella and I can bring your things in here. And Jasper, we'll bring your computer as well. See if you can hack into their system. Bella and Emmett, you can research with me. Books, the internet, anything you can get your hands on."

Like a well oiled machine, the family split, only Jasper and Carlisle remaining in the room, reluctant to move from their respective wives. They stood like mirror images of each other, on opposite sides of the bed but in the same position, shoulders squared, feet apart, their eyes focused solely down at the woman on their side of the bed.

"Carlisle, you don't think…." Jasper trailed off and swallowed. "You don't think she will…they will…"

"No. _No_," Carlisle said, a little too forcefully for it to be fully reassuring. "It's just…it's a drug or something. All drugs have side affects. And all have cures. We'll find it. You'll see."

Jasper eased down to his knees beside the bed, clasping Alice's still, white hand in his own, his eyes uncertain. "If you say so, Carlisle. But…if it doesn't…if the last thing we did was fight…"

Carlisle shook his head adamantly. "We'll find the cure. We have to. We…we have to."

* * *

Bella pursed her lips as she went through yet another online article, reading with the natural blazing speed that came with her still slightly newfound vampire abilities. There were some days she missed the average pace she once read at, the one that gave her the time to think over phrases and ponder meanings and come up with different theories about what she was reading. Sure, she could still do that now, but the lazy, lackadaisical way it had once been was sort of missed.

Not now, of course. Not when they were looking for some piece of information that would hopefully lead to a cure for Esme and Alice. It had been nearly a week since Jasper and Alice had come back home, and they had found nothing. Absolutely nothing. Jasper had had no luck hacking into the laboratory systems. Carlisle had only half-heartedly tried to reach his contacts, and all of them knew nothing about AMC Laboratories. Rosalie hadn't found much about the corporation at the library, only that it was run by a triumvirate of sorts based in southern Europe. And the research Bella had done had only pulled up a few articles, most detailing the recently escaped animals but a few more about the laboratory's establishment in Nipawin and one interesting one about a strange connection with biohazardous waste. Now, with her resources exhausted and Esme and Alice nowhere closer to being cured, she was taking a break with some good, old-fashioned computer Solitaire.

"Winning?"

Bella turned in her seat to find Emmett standing behind her, a giant stack of books in one of his hands.

She tried to smile and nearly did it before giving up. "No, not quite. How's the reading?"

Emmett sat down in an empty chair with a grunt, the books thumping down on Carlisle's desk between them. "Shitty. Edward's making me help Rosalie out, and since we're not really talking…well, you can figure out how easy that's making the process."

Bella pursed her lips. "Emmett…"

"Don't 'Emmett' me, Bells, I know what you're gonna say." He leaned back in the chair, balancing on two legs; she was surprised it didn't break under his bulk. "Just because the family's in distress doesn't mean Rose and I are going to cling to each other in our time of need."

"The least you could do is be civil to her."

"I am civil. I even say 'thank you' when she hands me another fucking book to pointlessly read."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Emmett, we need to keep working. You think sitting here whining about how much reading you've done is going to help Esme and Alice?"

He looked slightly kowtowed and sighed. "No, I know. I'm just pissed is all."

She looked him over for a silent minute, wondering what he was really pissed about. Esme and Alice? That their research was going nowhere? Or that his work-focused relationship with Rosalie was facing the same roadblock? Feeling her eyes on him, Emmett stood, going over to the wall where Carlisle's degrees were hung in heavy frames.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think something's going to work?"

The truth hurt, but she shrugged. "I don't know."

He reached out to touch the most recent of Carlisle's medical degrees, an ornate affair from Brown. "He's a doctor," he said, almost to himself. "He should be able to fix it."

"You know he's trying," Bella said gently, though even she sounded doubtful. "We all are."

Emmett's eyes drifted along. More medical degrees bordered that one, as well as the awards and articles Esme had carefully framed and insisted on hanging and Carlisle had embarrassedly agreed to. Above that was the large painting Carlisle had received from the Volturi, a beautiful work detailing the three leaders, Aro, Marcus, and Caius, looking youthful and powerful all at once. Next to the painting, there was a framed photo of the family, a candid snapshot taken at Edward and Bella's wedding and showing everyone in pairs. He and Rosalie looked so in love that it almost hurt to see that frozen image of him kissing her cheek. Edward and Bella were in the center, sharing the happiest of looks, while Jasper and Alice were both caught in mid-laugh, Alice's eyes crinkled shut. Carlisle and Esme stood to the side, his arm around her waist as they gazed happily on their children. Everyone looked so happy, so carefree…so different than the way they were now, fretful and comatose and broken.

"Here," Bella said gently, feeling Emmett's upset just as easily as if she had Jasper's gift. "Why don't you take these up to Carlisle? He asked for them." She held out a few articles printed off the internet.

"Sure." Emmett took the papers and left, eager for a chance to get out of more research. It felt so useless. They hadn't found anything in nearly a week's time. How could they hope to figure something out now?

Carlisle was still praying for a cure; he had yet to leave Esme's side, not even to hunt. Currently, he was sitting in a chair next to the bed, an open book on his lap and one of Esme's limp hands in his as he read aloud.

"…_The engagement ring is an emerald, and the dim light from the window is refracted green and white in it. The rings are silver, and they need cleaning. They need wearing, and_…" Carlisle's voice broke slightly before he went on. "_They need wearing, and I know just the girl to wear them._"

Emmett cleared his throat slightly to announce his presence, but still Carlisle didn't move. He merely closed the book and nodded. "Come in, Emmett."

He stepped into the room, brandishing the papers, half-wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. Seeing Esme lying so frozen, so deathly ill, made him feel awful for thinking their work was going nowhere…and for feeling that they would never find the cure.

"Bella wanted to give these to you," he offered.

"Thank you." Carlisle took them, flicking through them so fast Emmett wasn't sure if he actually read them. If Carlisle was giving up…no, he couldn't possibly. If Carlisle lost hope, they all would.

"She's going to get better," Emmett said, trying to put his all into his words, even if it was fake feeling. "We're going to find the cure. I mean, we're going to break through to it any day now."

Carlisle sighed and looked down at his wife lying on the bed. He was silent for a moment, staring at her, his eyes almost willing her to wake. He reached out to smooth a lock of caramel hair out of her closed eyes then leaned back in his chair.

"Have you spoken to Jasper? Has he made any progress?"

Emmett chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I, uh…I'm not sure." He was absolutely sure. Jasper had found nothing. Everything was locked up tighter than a drum. "I could go ask him?"

Carlisle nodded. "Yes. Thank you. I'll look these over while you're gone."

Emmett gave him – _them_, he mentally corrected himself; it was getting harder to think of Esme being sentient – a last look before stepping out, wincing at the sight of Carlisle clinging so desperately to his wife's hand that his white knuckles stood out even whiter. He was frozen in time, just as much as she, unable to do much of anything besides worry and fret and hold her hand.

On the opposite end of the hall, there was a situation very much like that; a comatose woman in bed, a mournful man in a chair beside her, and a desire for a cure lingering in the air. Only this time, Jasper was frantically working, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop in search of something, anything, that would cure the small jet-haired woman sleeping in the bed beside him.

"How's it going?" Emmett asked. Jasper's eyes were a darkening color, and they flicked up at him only momentarily.

"I can't do it," he muttered, his voice tired and angry and distressed.

Emmett didn't know what to say. What was there to?

"The system won't give," Jasper went on. "It doesn't make any sense. It's like they're being run by some crazy Nazi system I can't crack. And she…" He trailed off then, his eyes locking on Alice and holding that same crazed desperation Carlisle's did.

"There hasn't been any change…has there?" Emmett asked, hoping for the best and knowing there was nothing.

He shook his head. "No. Emmett, I…she can't go like this. I won't let her go like this. This isn't her, and you know it."

It was true. Alice, the lively, the pixie-like, would never in a million years have confined herself to bed (besides that one time in the fifties, and that was a long story). This wasn't the way she would have wanted it to be. He wondered for a moment if, somewhere inside, his sister was screaming to be let out, crying out in the hopes they could hear her. But no, Edward heard nothing, and Jasper felt only still calm to prove that they weren't yet gone entirely.

"I have to fight for her. Somehow, I have to make her well. Whatever it takes." The force behind Jasper's voice scared Emmett a little.

Made him wonder if he'd ever feel that way about someone. Or…if that someone might feel that way about him again.

"We will," he said in that half-assuring, half-cheerfully-lying way he had fed to Carlisle.

Jasper looked down at his laptop then back up, shaking his head. "Whoever these AMC folks are…they've got better techs than I. Tell everyone to keep working. I'll try harder." He went back to typing furiously, and Emmett backed out of the room, returning to Carlisle's doorway –

And stopping short, unwilling to interrupt the scene he had found there. Carlisle had given up his post in the chair next to the bed. He had instead lain down beside his wife, his hand forever clasped in hers, his eyes shut as if he too were in sleep…or in death…in whatever twilight state she was that he longed to join her in and could not. It was a heartwrenching sight to Emmett, that his mother's illness could unscrew his confident, intelligent father so, and he backed away from the room silently and sadly, returning to the downstairs study with a hung head.

"Any luck?" Bella asked.

Emmett realized he hadn't asked Carlisle if the articles had helped, but he had no desire to go back up there now to question him. "No," he said simply. "Jasper either."

She groaned and slumped over the computer, her forehead pressing against the screen. "I can't take much more of this. Everyone's going insane."

He nodded; the proof was right upstairs in the two men who refused to leave their respective rooms for fear that something would happen to the women who remained.

"And you're sure Jasper can't crack it?" she asked again.

He shook his head. "He's going to try, but he said the AMC guys have to have better people than him, to keep him out so much."

It was then that his words sunk in and his eyes focused on a spot on the wall just across the room. In a daze, ignoring whatever Bella was saying to him, Emmett walked to the wall of framed pictures and diplomas, his hand reaching out to touch the oil painting of ancients hanging there. The Volturi, forever captured in time, frozen on canvas just as they were frozen in their bodies. The leaders sitting on monogrammed thrones, Aro in the middle, flanked by Marcus and Caius.

Aro, Marcus, and Caius. _AMC._


	10. Odysseus and Penelope

Bella wasn't sure what happened. One second Emmett was there, standing in Carlisle's office, staring at the paintings on the wall. The next, he was a sudden blur, and the entire house sounded like it was about to cave in. In a flash, Bella was following him up the stairs, realizing it was his feet that were making such noise – as well as another pair. Edward met them at the landing.

"You don't really think…" Her husband trailed off, unable to say whatever it was that Emmett was pondering.

Emmett nodded. "It's the only explanation. Don't you see?"

"Come on." Edward motioned towards the room down the hall. "Let's see what Carlisle has to say."

Bella knew better than to ask what they meant; she'd hear it soon enough. She followed them into Esme and Carlisle's room, feeling a twinge of deep upset and fear when she saw Carlisle and Esme lying side by side on the bed. Guilt, too, that she was standing here, entirely healthy, with her husband at her side. Carlisle sat up in bed, unembarrassed and sad.

"Carlisle," Emmett said, his voice half excited and half terrified. "I think I know who they are."

Carlisle perked up at that, sliding off the bed and standing next to his wife, still refusing to let go of her lifeless hand. "Tell me," he said, quiet yet strong.

Emmett spoke just as Jasper and Rosalie entered the room, looking bewildered.

"AMC," he said, as if it were something so simple they ought to have figured it out long ago. "_Aro_, _Marcus_, and _Caius_. The Volturi. They're the ones behind this. They _have_ to be."

Everyone in the room froze as the idea lingered in the air. Jasper looked suddenly betrayed and Carlisle horrified while everyone else looked entirely aghast. Could it be possible? Had they found whoever was causing all this to happen?

"It's plausible," Carlisle said, ever the scholar, "but what proof do we have?"

"Fuck proof!" Emmett cried. "It makes sense! It has to!"

"Let's try to think it through first, Emmett," Jasper suggested gravely. "The two options for languages on the AMC website are English and Italian. And didn't you say something about their headquarters being in Europe, Bella?"

She nodded. "It was in that article from when they first built the labs."

"That doesn't mean anything," Carlisle said, his voice making it sound almost as if he didn't want to believe them.

Rosalie gasped, sudden remembrance on her face. "I read something about their American liaison being a Demetri something-or-another. Isn't there a Demetri –"

"In the Volturi," Bella cut her off with a sigh.

"But would they really do that?" Carlisle asked. "To us? To _anyone_?"

"They did try to kill us all, remember?" Jasper pointed out carefully.

"Yes, but they wouldn't go about poisoning others of their kind on_ purpose_, without reason…"

"Maybe it wasn't on purpose," said Edward. "I mean, they _are_ a laboratory."

Rosalie scowled. "Laboratory or not, they've caused this problem and they'll need to fix it. Screw research, let's go bang down the door and find out what they're really about."

"Enough!" Carlisle held up his hands and sighed. "Buy the plane tickets. We'll take it from there." He only had to shoot a look at Edward before the man left the room, presumably to follow the silent orders the doctor had given. Bella followed after giving Carlisle a sympathetic smile.

"So," Emmett said, rubbing his hands together, "when do we leave?"

"We don't," Carlisle replied, reaching under the bed to tug out a small overnight bag. "Or rather, you don't. You're staying here."

Emmett had just enough time to stop his jaw from dropping, figuring now was not the time to pitch too big of a fit. "But why? I want to help."

Carlisle sighed, his eyes gazing over his wife. "Someone has to stay with her and Alice. I have to go. I'm the only one Aro will truly trust." He zipped open the bag and walked to his closet, returning with a selection of shirts and trousers. He continued as he placed them in the bag. "You and Rosalie will stay with them. Jasper, Edward, Bella and I will go."

"P-pardon?" Rosalie stuttered, her eyes opening wide.

"I think I'll go pack," Jasper murmured and stepped of the room as quickly as he could.

"Come _on_, Carlisle, you need me. Us," Emmett quickly corrected, feeling his ex-wife shooting him daggers.

"You're both temperamental and revengeful," Carlisle said, slipping a pair of loafers into his bag. "Rosalie is easily distracted and Emmett, you can't keep your mouth shut. My apologies to the both of you, you know I love you dearly, but…this is about your mother. Your sister. We need to do all we can to save them. Is that understood?"

Emmett grunted his reply and Rosalie bit back her own huff to mumble, "Yes, Carlisle."

"Thank you," Carlisle said, zipping his bag up quickly. "You know I would stay if I could but…I have to do all I can to save them."

"We understand," Emmett muttered gruffly. "Go. We'll take care of them. Don't you worry."

But even though his bag was packed, Carlisle remained standing next to the bed, his lips twisted in a fretful frown as he looked down at his wife.

* * *

"Do you really think it's them?" Bella asked, throwing a hairbrush and some extra socks into the bag she was packing for herself and her husband.

Edward scraped his hand through his hair, his fretful habit. "I do. Of course, there is some uncertainty, but the signs are pointing to it. The best thing for us to do is confront them. And hope they can solve whatever it is they've done."

"But…all of us?" He could hear the worry in her voice, and he went to sit on the bed, taking her hand in his.

"Bella," he said gently, "we have strength in numbers. If we all go, we have a better chance of getting what we want. What we need to hear."

She nodded, then moved to the bedside table, picking up a framed picture that continually rested there – Edward and Bella holding a small girl between them, their daughter, a grinning little mixture of the two beautiful immortals. She bit her lip and looked over at him. "Should we call…?"

Edward shook his head. "No need to worry her. We'll be home soon enough with the cure."

He didn't need to voice the _I hope _part.

"We'll be leaving soon, if we want to make it to the airport on time," he announced. "I'll bring this bag downstairs. Bring the others when you're done?"

She nodded and leaned over to peck her husband's lips quickly before letting him leave. He carried the suitcase out the room, stopping as he made his way down the second story staircase and heard something that made him wince slightly.

"_We are going to find the cure. We have to. You have to make it. If you don't…I can't be here without you. I can't. I won't._"

Edward paused in Jasper and Alice's doorway, staring at his tall, gentlemanly brother standing over his sprite of a sister lying motionless on the bed. Jasper's face was hard to take in, his pain so barely masked by his general look of stoicism. Edward couldn't know how the man felt, but he could guess; not too long ago, he too had left the woman he loved behind. Though in his case, it was with certainty he would never see her again. The doubt lingering in the air was even more troubling this time around.

"_I'll only be gone a short time_," Jasper thought, carrying on his silent adieu with his wife. His voice carried only when, broken and soft, he murmured an "I love you" towards her and made his way to the door, his face betraying no surprise at Edward standing there.

"The car service will be here soon," he announced. "Are you packed?"

"Hmmm." Jasper reached down to zip up a small overnight bag, filled with unfolded shirts haphazardly thrown in; Alice's absence was making itself known.

Neither of them said anything as they left the room, each of them taking their time to look back at the girl on the bed – sister, wife, and friend – before heading down the flight of stairs. Carlisle was already there, also trying to hide his upset with a blank face, but his hands constantly tightening around his satchel gave him away.

"The car is here," Carlisle announced, nodding his head to the front door. "Is Bella ready?"

The woman appeared on the stairs, carry another small bag. "I'm here. Are we going?"

Carlisle turned, calling through the house for Emmett and Rosalie. The two appeared in separate doorways, both looking sullen.

"Try not to break anymore windows," he said, making an attempt at humor and failing. "We'll call when we land in Italy."

"Good luck," Emmett replied half-heartedly.

"We'll take care of them." Rosalie nodded at Carlisle and Jasper.

No hugs were exchanged, and no more words said. Wishes of luck and reminders to stay safe…everything seemed unnecessary under their stress. The foursome silently left the house and got into the small limousine that was waiting for them outside, silent still as they drove to the small airport where their private jet was waiting. Edward manned the controls of the Gulfstream, taxiing out as everyone settled in their seats.

"How long will it take?" Bella asked as she strapped her seatbelt across her lap – unnecessary, but habit.

Across the aisle, Carlisle looked up from the notepad he had laid in front of him. "About four and a half hours to get to New York, then nine or so hours to get to Italy. I hope you brought a book."

She smiled at his feeble joke, the second time he had done so in one day. He was trying to get by, really he was…but they could all see it was a struggle for him. Just as much as it was for Jasper, who sat in the seat in front of Carlisle. His pale hands were gripping the armrests, and his eyes stared blankly ahead at the cockpit where Edward sat. The engine rumbled as the readied for takeoff, and Bella leaned her head back against the seat rest, missing sleep immensely.

* * *

The entire house seemed pervaded by the upset that had left – a surprise to Emmett, who had hoped the emotion would leave with the wounded husbands. It seemed to be almost the opposite. Now, along with the sadness that seemed to come from every square inch of the house, there was the added discomfort that came from being shut in the same house with his ex-wife. Not that he wasn't too upset about that; though he wouldn't admit it to her, his conscious…and other parts of his anatomy…knew Emmett was still very much into Rosalie. She, on the other hand, could barely stand the sight of him. Their time spent in the same room was short, and their conversations were shorter. She had little patience for him these days.

That didn't stop him from seeking her out. To purposely annoy her? Yeah, a little. She was cute when she was flustered. But it was mostly to see her, to be near her.

_To be a total fucking pansy, huh?_

So? Maybe he was. But she was a bitch with a stick up her ass. And he had to figure out how to get it out for once and for all.

Emmett checked in on Esme for a brief moment, sadly reassuring himself that she had not changed. Her eyes were still shut, her body motionless. He thought for a moment what he would feel if it were Rose lying on that bad. He had no claim to her anymore. Would he feel anything?

_Of course you would, idiot_. Yeah, he'd feel a lot of things. But he realized he'd probably feel a lot of guilt too. She didn't want his feelings. Should he stop them? Could he stop them?

No, the desire to go to her was too great. He bent down to kiss his mother's cold cheek before leaving the room, following the pull he couldn't deny down the hall.

Rosalie was in Alice and Jasper's old room, sitting on the bed. The dark-haired girl was just as still as Esme, and her head was in Rosalie's lap. Rose was holding a silver-handled brush, smoothing it gently through Alice's hair, completing the simple, sisterly gesture with a slight frown on her face. Emmett paused in the doorway, watching until Rose lifted her head.

"I…" She stuttered, and he could tell she was embarrassed at being caught. "I figured she'd be upset if we didn't try to keep up appearances."

He smiled. "You're probably right."

Rosalie brushed through one last strand before readjusting Alice on the bed, folding her lifeless arms over her stomach. "Did you check on Esme?"

He nodded. "She's the same."

She set her lips and slid off the bed. "Okay. I'll leave you two then."

"Rose," Emmett started, reaching out for her arm as she passed him. But she was too fast, zipping out the door into the hallway, giving him a look he couldn't quite read.

"No, Emmett. It's not going to fix itself just because things are shitty."

She walked away, leaving him to puzzle over her difficult-to-understand girl-speak. By the time he had figured it out, she had already gone out to hunt, leaving him a two-worded note on the hall table that he quickly tossed in the garbage.

* * *

The flight was just as quiet as the ride has been to get them there, and after the short stop in New York, Bella moved up to the cockpit to sit with her husband. Edward was fiddling with the dials and switches that dotted the board, and she watched his long pale fingers work, half-thankful that he was there next to her, half-guilty that she had him still.

"How are they?" Edward asked quietly.

Bella shrugged. "As well as they can be, I guess. They're just waiting."

"We all are."

"Well, hopefully Emmett was right and we aren't flying to Italy for nothing."

He shook his head. "No, not for nothing. I have a feeling this is it. How can something that weakens the strongest be created by humans? I mean, no offense, but all the signs point to the Volturi."

"And if it isn't them?"

"If it isn't them…well, hopefully Carlisle's old ties with Aro will help us find some answers. Maybe they'll be able to figure out who is really behind this. Or make a cure."

"A cure? Do you think it's as simple as that?" Bella asked and watched as Edward pointed the plane down the runway. He reached overhead for the radio, informing the tower they were ready for takeoff and receiving his all-clear. The silence again settled around them as he pushed in on the throttle, speeding the plane faster and faster until he pulled up and out into the sky.

"Well? Could a cure really be made?" she prompted him again.

"Here's my logic: the labs were testing the bears with some sort of chemical. Whatever it was, the side effects are devastating for our kind. But every chemical has a cure. For every action, there –"

" – is an equal and opposite reaction, I know." She sighed. "I just don't see how it can be as easy as all that."

Edward shook his head. "This is the Volturi. Nothing is going to be easy."


	11. Hamlet and Ophelia

"We can't even talk?"

Rosalie didn't look up from the socket wrenches she was cleaning off. "We can talk, Em…mett."

The endearment slipped from her lips quicker than she could think, but she had saved it. Hopefully without him noticing. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, striding across the garage and hopping onto one of the shelves she had just cleared in her scouring frenzy.

"You left Esme and Alice alone?" she asked, slightly sardonically.

"They're unconscious. What are they going to know?"

"You know, they say coma patients may be able to hear everything."

"Doesn't mean they're going to get up and walk for the five minutes I'm out here talking to you."

"Alright, five minutes. Go." She held up her wrist, pretending to fiddle around with the knobs on her watch – as if a Patek Phillipe had a built-in timer.

Emmett scowled. "God, you really have turned into a bitch. Is this why you and Edward don't get along?"

She scowled right back. "Fuck off, Emmett."

"No," he said strongly. "No, I'm not gonna 'fuck off,' because you and I are here together, more or less alone, until the others come back. And guess what, babe? We're together for a hell of a lot longer than that. I'm not planning on leaving the family, and I know your stubborn ass won't go either. So just suck it up and deal with it. Deal with _me_."

She stared at him, her face blank for a moment, surprised that he had said such things to her. Even in the months before their divorce, he hadn't been so frank; he had been whiny, annoying, chauvinistic, but never so outright with his feelings. That wasn't Emmett, the man who always hid his anger. He had changed. Had she done that to him? She was almost regretful that he had; she was surprised to find herself missing him, that old, easygoing Emmett. She was even more surprised to find her stubborn resolve melting slowly away.

"Okay," she murmured, looking back down at her socket wrenches so he wouldn't see her softening face.

Even Emmett was surprised. "O-okay?" he stammered, taken aback that his tirade had been accepted so quickly.

_You are right. You were right_. The words were poised on the tip of her tongue, so ready to jump off that she was grateful Edward wasn't there to already hear them. If she said those…wouldn't she be admitting her defeat? And that was something she so rarely did. And she would most certainly not do it here, not when he was so clearly at fault for their…problems.

And so she nodded, keeping her eyes down on her wrenches and again whispered, "Okay."

Even though they were far from it.

* * *

It was dusk when the Cullens finally left the airplane hangar, having stayed aboard the jet longer than necessary to avoid the striking Italian sunset – and also to give Carlisle time to phone in a casual favor from Aro.

"Do we really want to go through with this?" Bella asked nervously, entangling her fingers with Edward's as they stepped out of the Rolls Royce Jasper had successfully "commandeered" from the small airport's director. "I mean, we don't even know _for sure_ if it is them."

"If it isn't, then perhaps they'll be able to help," Carlisle replied in a tense voice. "But my intuition is telling me that they're at the bottom of it, even if they didn't mean for things to go this way. Aro…Aro wouldn't do that to our family, not conscientiously."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "A while back, we thought Aro wouldn't do a lot of things."

The group paused just inside a dark alleyway, staying in the shadows and away from the streetlamps' glow. Even in the coming night, the immortals sent to meet them would want to avoid being seen. Carlisle attempted to look calm, but his arms were folded a little too tight to come off as such. Bella and Edward maintained the look better, despite their tightly clasped hands.

Jasper pulled a worn old pocket watch from inside his coat, pressing the button to flip it open. "What time did he say they were coming?"

"Eight," Carlisle replied. "What time is it?"

"Seven fifty-nine." He shut the watch with a snap and slid it back inside his pocket.

"Just a moment, then," said Carlisle, and they all tried to ignore the worry in his voice.

Bella glanced out of the alley into the dimly lit street. "It's not going to be Aro meeting us, is it?"

"I'm afraid not," a high voice called out to them. The foursome turned to the end of the alley, their bodies tense.

"Jane." Carlisle bowed slightly, a genial attempt. The girl came forward from the group of four she stood with, her face angelic and her arms outstretched. She clasped Carlisle's hands like an old friend, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. The sight was almost horrifying to Bella, and she shuddered to see her adopted father embracing the tiny killer. Carlisle accepted her gesture but couldn't hide the white, taut lines of his lips pressed tightly together.

"Eight o'clock on the dot," Jasper murmured, giving a sideways glance to his brother.

"How very punctual," Edward mused, his tone sarcastic and his face serious.

"Aro sends nothing but the best for his guests," Jane said gleefully.

"Is that why he also sends armed guards?" Edward shot back. Bella tugged sharply on his hand as Jane's eyes flickered, somewhere between anger and amusement and settling on indifference.

"We only wanted you to be safe in the city," Jane piped up. "One never knows what might be wandering about Volterra. Come. We've been anticipating your arrival ever since you called this afternoon."

She beckoned them closer to the mouth of the alley, and they stepped forward as a group, very conscious that the cloaked, still-hidden guard was enclosing around them as they followed Jane down a labyrinth of streets. She led them deeper into the depths of the city, finally reaching a dark wooden door set in an ancient stone archway. Jane pressed her finger to an inconspicuous knothole, and a small panel of wood slid away to reveal a silver locking mechanism. She hesitated for merely a moment before one of the guards stepped forward, pulling a large three-pronged key from somewhere with the depths of his…her?…robe and handing it to the girl.

"Even more security since the last time?" Carlisle asked politely.

Jane smiled over her shoulder as she slid the key into the lock; even her grin was mocking and cold. "Aro decided to embrace technology about two years ago. He's even invested in a few research facilities."

Edward winced as his head filled with the thoughts of the men standing with him, each suddenly roaring with irate certainty that this girl and her kind were the cause of their wives' mysterious illness.

"How…interesting," Bella offered, trying to save the situation if at all possible.

Jane pushed the door open to reveal a dark stone corridor, gesturing to it like a happy hostess. A general feeling of doom pervaded the group – given to them by Jasper or of their own doing, they weren't quite sure – but they still walked in, following the girl through the door and down the winding corridors that would lead them to the heart of Volterra.

Edward and Bella held tight to each other, and Bella's heart ached for the empty hands of Jasper and Carlisle. But that was why they were here, wasn't it? To fix the problem that caused those empty hands. Now that they were nearly 100% sure it was the Volturi at the root of this problem, Aro and the others _had_ to help them. They had to.

As Bella was pitying their father and brother, Edward was busy focusing on the thoughts of everyone around them. _Listen carefully,_ Carlisle had ordered silently. _Jane's emotions give her away. Both you and Jasper must focus_.

His brother was indeed focused, his eyes set straight ahead and his mind reflecting nothing but the emotions around him, only occasionally broken by fleeting images of a black-haired woman's mischievous smile.

Edward himself was listening in carefully to the thoughts of the guard and Jane…and unfortunately getting next to nothing. Jane was going over her orders – _take them to the atrium and then go get Aro _– and the guards were a mixture of distraction, later plans, and outright hatred for their small leader; apparently Jane had given the man nearest Bella a small shock mere moments before meeting them in the alley. Nothing in their minds gave them away, gave him any clue of whether or not their suspicious would finally be proved true.

The atrium that had been in Jane's thoughts loomed before them suddenly, elegant and clean and redecorated since the last time Edward had been there on a poorly-inspired suicide mission. The front desk that had met him then was still there, with a new female behind it, a pretty redheaded woman with flashing red eyes. The receptionist shivered a little under Jane's stare, her pained thoughts very much the same as the guard's, but she forced a little smile and called out.

"Are these the guests everyone's been talking about?"

"I see our reputation precedes us," Carlisle said, looking over his shoulder at Edward, his mind speaking for him. _Is it good talk or not?_

Edward listened carefully for a moment…

…_strange eyes, just like Athenodora said. But I wouldn't mind getting to know the oldest one. Craig? Carl? I can't remember if_…

Apparently there was nothing to worry about there.

Edward shook his head almost imperceptibly as Jane dismissed their guard and turned to Carlisle.

"Wait here," she commanded. "I'll let them know you've arrived."

_Self-important fool_, he could hear Jasper thinking.

_How very Aro_, Carlisle echoed silently.

Bella's head was, like always, silent, but her face was grim. He sat next to her on one of the plush davenports that were pushed against the walls of the atrium and glanced over at his father. Carlisle was staring straight ahead, looking only slightly nervous, the rest of him poised and ready for business. Jasper held the same sort of pose, but his stare was more intense, his mind bordering on violent. Bella's hand slowly slipped into his, squeezing tight until a voice he knew as well as his own filled his ears.

_Now that we know they're behind it, do you think they'll actually be able to help cure Esme and Alice?_

Edward leaned close so his words would reach Bella's ears and none else. "If Jane has her way, then no. But Aro won't shut out Carlisle, not if he doesn't want a repeat of last time. We'll just have to wait and see."

She audibly sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. _But what if the wait's too long? What if something happens while we're away?_

It was his turn to sigh. "We're all worried about that. But –"

_I know. Worrying won't get us anywhere_.

He hugged her tight against his side. "We'll wait and see. Nothing more we can do."

* * *

Wait they did. Jane had been gone for more than forty minutes when Jasper hopped up from his seat, beginning to pace anxiously.

"Jasper, please," Carlisle murmured, his unspoken thoughts giving away his own anxieties, anxieties he had no desire to be stressed by Jasper's pacing. The man froze, yet his stance was still full of unspoken anger and tension. It wasn't often that Jasper lost his temper; when it happened, it was something to be feared.

"How could they?" he muttered, his jaw tight and locked, making his words emerge like angry hisses. "Surely they must know why we're here. And they just leave us sitting here?"

"I didn't hear anything to prove that they know," Edward interjected, "and we won't be sure of that until we go in to see Aro and the others."

"Aro will hear our argument and do what he can to help," Carlisle assured him. "Once he understands that their experiements are at fault, he'll want to cure them, just to avoid another…confrontation."

Jasper shook his head, crossing his arms tightly across his body. "No. I've seen the Volturi interfere too many times. They only help if it furthers their station. And they'll be ready for a fight like last time, I'm sure of it. Jane didn't have a tinge of fear, and even _she_ would be wary if they expected another battle."

"_Jasper_," Bella hissed, tilting her chin slightly to the redheaded receptionist attempting to listen in on their discussion."

"No," he retorted. "I don't care who hears. They need to know what they did." He turned to glare at the receptionist, who froze in the middle of fluffing her hair and started fluttering her eyelashes instead.

"Jasper," Carlisle said under his breath, coming to stand next to his angered son, "you've dealt with the Volturi many times before. You know them almost as well as I do. _Almost_. And if you lose your temper with them, they will not hesitate to remind you who is in charge."

"But Carlisle, _they_ are the ones who –"

"The ones who have the final say over what will happen to Esme and Alice. Do you want to jeopardize the cure for your wife?"

Jasper remained silent, stubborn but acquiescent.

"We need you in there to help keep the situation calm," he went on. "Can you handle yourself enough to take care of that?"

He nodded curtly but kept his jaw clenched and did not sit down as Carlisle did. His anger flowed through his veins a few minutes more before turning to desperation caused by visions of a sleeping, pixyish girl missing her trademark smile. For her, they were here. For her and for Esme, they would find the cure.

Jane emerged from the same doors she had disappeared through a few minutes later, looking curious but calm. Each member of the family rose to their feet, waiting to hear what news she would give them.

But Jane just smiled, a trifle evilly, and kept her words simple. "You can come in now."

They followed her as a group, Carlisle leading, Bella and Edward behind, and Jasper bringing up the rear as he tried to ignore the lusty feelings coming from the receptionist and focus on what was ahead. Alice. He was doing this for Alice. And for her, he would keep calm, keep focused, keep his temper under control so they might obtain the cure. Because without Alice, what meaning did his life have? He'd rather be dead than be alone. He'd give his very soul – if he was positive he had one left – to make sure she was safe. And so he kept a straight face and a stoic demeanor as they came into the richly-decorated room that lay beyond the doors and walked up to the three golden thrones at the far end. Each throne was monogrammed with a gilt initial and each bore an ancient leader – Aro, flanked by the rest of his triumvirate, Caius and Marcus.

Aro's face broke into a beaming smile as they stood in front of him, and he rose to his feet, outstretching his hands like a father welcoming the Prodigal son. "Carlisle, what a pleasant surprise. Welcome back to Volterra."

"Thank you," Carlisle said; Jasper could feel him holding back the anger and pain to put forth a calm front. It was almost imperceptible, and he wished for his father's skill – and for his temper to stay in check.

"Terribly sorry you didn't come earlier," Caius spoke up with a wry smile. "We've only just finished our meal."

Jasper felt the shudder come from Bella before him even without having to look.

"Oh, but you know our habits," Carlisle said just as wryly, almost joking about their unwillingness to commit murder.

"Then perhaps it's a good thing," Caius replied. "Wouldn't want to tempt you out of paradise."

His sarcasm dripped almost visibly, and Jasper wondered how much of his gift he would have to impart before the man would come to their aid.

"I see you've brought your happy brood…or most of them," Aro noted. "Where is your wife and the others?"

"Aro, Marcus, Caius," Carlisle said, his words taking on a serious tone as he bowed to each one in turn, "the reason we came here to see you is…is…"

Jasper sent his father a shot of strength and waited for him to go on.

"My wife, as well as our daughter Alice, have both fallen ill," he explained.

"Ill?" A light-haired woman standing apart from the thrones repeated, her hand at her throat at the supposedly absurd idea. Another woman with her struck the same pose. "Surely you don't mean –"

"He does," Edward cut her off gruffly.

The pain rolling off his father was near unbearable but incredibly familiar as Carlisle went on. "They're unresponsive but alive. We believe they drank from tainted animals…animals that escaped from a nearby laboratory. AMC Laboratories, to be exact."

There was nothing accusatory about his tone, just calm, stark stating of fact. Aro, Marcus and Caius all stared for a moment, shock and realization on their faces as well as in the air. Marcus looked to his brother, leaning a hand on Aro's shoulder. The ancient slowly nodded.

"So I presume you have deduced who is running that endeavor?" Aro asked, the corner of his mouth almost curving to a smile. Almost as if he was _laughing_. Like the fact that Alice was near-dead was a _joke_. It was more than Jasper could take.

"We know you're the ones behind it!" he cried, feeling his anger overtake him. He stepped forward, unafraid as he advanced on the trio. "Whatever you're doing has caused me to nearly lose my _wife_! Our mother! And you stand here and laugh? I –"

He stopped then, the pain too much to continue coherent speech. He was blind with it, seeing nothing but white, and hoped somehow that if this was death, he'd be with Alice soon.

But then the pain stopped, and Jane stepped aside, a gleeful grin on her face. Carlisle let go of Edward and held a hand out to his other son. Jasper took it and rose shakily to his feet, staring angrily at the small girl before returning his gaze to the vampires before him.

Aro stepped down from the raised dais the thrones were upon to come closer to his old friend. "Yes, you've found us out. The research facilities are indeed ours."

"Please." Carlisle turned to pleading, his amber eyes wide. "Tell us what you're doing there. Tell me what's happened to my wife and daughter."

The room settled as Aro spoke, but his words were not at all reassuring. "I'm afraid I cannot say. We haven't been testing on vampires, you see, just animals and a few mortal patients. We've had rousing success, though, and –"

"Wait, _what_?" It was Edward's turn to explode as he held a hand up to the side of his head, wincing from…pain? Disgust? Both ebbed out of him like water towards Jasper.

"Oh, I had quite forgotten you could hear me, Edward." Aro smiled and tapped a long finger to his temple.

"What is it?" Bella asked, looking between the man and her husband.

"The experiments," Edward said coldly. "Speeding up the changing process. Seeing what bounds they can push to change humans, animals, to our kind."

Aro tutted. "It didn't seem to work so well with the bears. They only increased their animalistic habits before dying three days later. That's why we didn't mind so much when they escaped."

"It was those escaped animals that Alice and Esme found!" Jasper cried, even as Jane stepped forward threateningly.

Carlisle reached out to place a hand on Aro's shoulder, keeping it there for a moment before lowering it back to his side. His voice was still pleading, sad, as he spoke. "Aro, you and the others are our only hope. You are the reason they are sick. You have to be the reason they get well."

Aro turned his back on them, looking up to where his brothers still stood on the dais. The two women standing to the side whispered softly as the men conferred silently, using only their eyes to speak. After a too-long moment, Aro turned back around, his face blank.

"You must give us time to talk this over," he said simply, as if it were an understandable request and not one that might lead to Alice and Esme's end. "We will meet again tomorrow with an answer to your request."

Jasper opened his mouth to scream, clenched his fists to fight – and was stopped with one collaborative glance from Carlisle, Edward, and Bella, all anticipating his temper to rise. He took a deep breath, thought of Alice, and calmed himself, nodding as Carlisle spoke.

"So be it," the man replied. The desperation in his voice hardly had to be mentioned.

"Sulpicia," Aro called out, looking towards the waifish blonde women next to the dais. The taller of the two stepped forward, placing her hand in his. Jasper realized she was his wife and shuddered; as if anyone could possibly stand to marry that man.

"Please escort our guests to their quarters for the day?" he asked genially. "I'm sure you'll find it most comfortable. We'll send for you when we've reached a decision."

The woman looked towards them, nodding demurely. "If you would follow me." She gestured to a door on the side of the room and began to walk as they followed. The door led to a stone hallway lit by fiery torches that made their shadows dance on the wall behind them. Soon, another shadow appeared, showing that someone was headed their way. He heard the guest's greeting before he saw who it was, but the voice was enough to make him remember. Remember the torture of the change and nights of violence, days of fear and the pain of battle…

"Sulpicia," the guest had greeted simply.

Sulpicia responded in a like manner, nodding to the woman. "Maria."


	12. Tristan and Isolde

It took a moment for the others to realize, but even if they hadn't remembered who Maria was, Jasper's face would have given it away. He was paler than ever as he stared ahead at the woman who had come upon their group. She in turn was small, thin, with long dark hair and a pink mouth that was slowly curving up into a smile.

"Hello, Jasper," she murmured softly, her voice lilting and tinny, almost like a little girl's. Though she wasn't sure why, it made a shiver go down Bella's spine, and she frowned to watch her blond-haired brother able to do nothing but stand there and stare in shock.

"Maria," Sulpicia interjected smoothly, "I take it you know our guests?"

Maria turned her smile to the woman. "Only Major Whitlock, I'm afraid." The reference to Jasper, so casually made, only made the sudden appearance of her seem more painful and bizarre to the group, even moreso as she went back to eyeing Jasper. "Though it's been quite a while since I've had the pleasure of being in his company."

"Jasper and his family are guests of ours," Sulpicia went on, a graceful hostess. "This is Carlisle Cullen, his son, Edward, and daughter, Bella." Each one nodded in turn but kept a wary eye on Maria. They had all heard the stories about her and had absolutely no reason to be comfortable in her presence. What was worst was that Jasper's feelings of shock, anger, and upset seemed to be trickling into their consciousness, almost as if he had lost control and wasn't able to help himself any longer, not as he stood staring at his former commander.

But Maria only smiled that smile, a grin that was more devilish than sweet, one that made another shiver run from Bella's toes up. "Then I very much hope we can find some time to…_catch up_." Something in her words carried a not-too-hidden meaning, and she let her gaze linger on Jasper as she walked past and around another corner, leaving them alone with Sulpicia once more.

"How, er, long has Maria been part of your clan?" Carlisle asked, attempting to sound casual as they began walking forward again.

"Just a year or two," Sulpicia replied. "Aro insisted on wiping out her army after they exposed themselves one too many times, but he offered a position here for her."

Carlisle made a little noncommittal noise in reply and glanced over at his son, and everyone's eyes followed. Bella could see that Jasper was not well; his jaw and fists were both clenched and his eyes were hollow, staring blankly ahead even as they walked. Sulpicia paused in front of a wooden door, and still Jasper walked, not noticing they had stopped until Bella reached out to grasp his arm and tug him back. He seemed to shake himself awake then, giving her an apologetic look as Sulpicia opened the door.

"Your quarters," she said as she gestured them in. "Aro will send for you once a decision has been made."

"Thank you, Sulpicia," Carlisle replied.

The room was an incredibly large bedchamber, with two double beds against the far wall, nightstands and armoires for each on the side. Closer to the door was a sitting area with a large sofa, an overstuffed loveseat, and two wingback armchairs, all in the same shades of rich, dark red – all in the same shades as the eyes of the Volturi. There were no windows, merely stone walls, some covered with thick tapestries to keep out the cold they could not feel. Once they were all in the room, Sulpicia bid them a good night and left, leaving the door open behind her. It was Edward that shut it, likely on silent orders from their father that Bella couldn't hear. Nor could she hear whatever was going on in Jasper's head, though she so desired to, just so she might help him. He had moved to the sofa but hadn't sat down, just stood staring, saying nothing. She glanced over at Edward, hoping he could hear and give them some clue as to what to do, but the man merely shrugged his shoulders. Whatever Jasper was thinking was beyond his control.

"Jasper?" Bella asked gently, stepping towards him.

The man snapped out of it then, his eyes finally meeting hers, sending a shot of stress through her bones she knew he had created and accidentally passed on.

"Sorry," he said breathlessly. "Just…it's a little harrowing. I…I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," she urged him, easing him down to the sofa and sitting next to him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He winced. "I lost my head. One look at her and I'm a statue."

"It makes sense, Jasper," Carlisle said as he sat in one of the wing chairs. "You saw awful things when you were a part of her army."

"Saw…did," he corrected hoarsely. "I _did_ awful things."

"Things she made you do," Edward brought up from where he stood behind the couch.

Jasper shook his head. "No. For the blood, for the power…whatever it was, I did it willingly."

"For a _time_," Edward continued what he didn't say. "You realized what was right and wrong and you left."

"And here she is, following me yet again." Jasper's voice was harsh and bitter.

"There isn't any reason you need to speak to her," Bella brought up. "We're here to see Aro, Caius, and Marcus. Not her."

Carlisle agreed. "Bella's right. We're sure to finish our business in a day or so. We'll be well on our way before you have a chance to speak to Maria again."

Jasper sighed and tilted his head back, closing his eyes wearily. "I hope so. I certainly hope so."

~*~

The night was long and tedious, and Jasper lost his patience quickly – much quicker than the rest of them. Alice was so far, far away, ill, perhaps dying, and he was in a beautiful castle being hosted by some of the most powerful beings he knew with his former leader…commander…mistress…in the very same building. Everything the others had said had been reassuring – at the time. Now, he felt as if avoiding Maria's presence was mere wishful thinking, that he would have to see her sooner later…and what was worse, he had the strangest feeling that she would be the only one able to help them. Had he been missing Alice too much to absorb some of her talents? He didn't know. All he knew that he missed her terribly, wanted her there more than anything in the world, and was edging on desperation, ready to give anything to have her well again.

He focused on his father for a moment, half expecting him to feel the same way. After all, they were nearly in the same boat – save for the person who changed them showing up randomly. But Carlisle didn't have a touch of desperation, nor of nerves. He was simply calm, steady, his normal self. As he if knew without a doubt the Volturi would help them.

Jasper knew otherwise.

While he hadn't lived with the Volturi as Carlisle had, he had seen them in their business dealings enough to know their modus operandi. They only helped in a situation if it was beneficial to them. They had never bothered much with Maria and her army until the fight got out of hand and they were in danger of being exposed to the humans. The last time Jasper and the others had seen them, it hadn't been for help; it had been retaliation. The Volturi had a grudge against them now, and Jasper worried that that grudge would be the one thing keeping his wife from being cured.

Even Edward was beginning to lose his patience by the time day broke; Jasper could feel his annoyance thrumming through his body until it broke like a dam.

"What is taking them so long?" he cried gruffly as he began to pace back and forth across the room. "It's a simple decision. They caused the problem; they need to help to fix it."

"It has to be a thorough decision," Carlisle explained. "Everyone must come to the same terms."

"You mean to say they're bargaining in there as to whether they save Esme and Alice?" Bella asked incredulously.

Carlisle winced. "Not bargaining. Just…agreeing."

Jasper snorted. "If it's taking them this long…" He trailed off, realizing what his pessimism was leading him to say. Even with Alice just asleep, he was returning to the cruel, cynical being he had been before her. With her gone…he didn't want to think what he would become.

"They're going to be fine," Carlisle said emphatically. "They have to be."

That was his mantra, and all of theirs, for the next few hours. It wasn't until well into the morning – sometime around nine thirty, they guessed, as there weren't any clocks in the room they had been left in – that Jane came in through the door, her face calm and stoic and betraying none of the secrets they wished to know.

"They're ready to see you now," she said simply, opening the door wide and gesturing them out. Jasper wondered for a moment if Jane would be able to handle all four of them should something go wrong – but no, sure enough there were three additional guards waiting in the hall, nondescript male newborns of a larger size and little distinction between them. They flanked behind and around them as they left the room and progressed down the hall, back towards the chamber where the decision awaited.

Aro, Marcus, and Caius were all seated in their thrones upon the dais, looking down as the Cullens entered the room. The robes they wore were almost ceremonial and placed them back a few centuries – more to serve as reminders of their lasting power than to make a fashion statement. Aro had his usual smile perking his lips upward, and Marcus was in his normal state of disinterest, but Caius, usually so sullen, had a look on his face that rivaled Aro's happiness. Whatever decision had been made, it had been swayed in the favor of Caius, so it seemed. Jasper could feel his smug satisfaction lingering in the air like wet paint.

"Welcome back," Aro called out as the foursome paused before their thrones.

Carlisle bowed his head respectfully, though Jasper sensed his hidden pretention. "Thank you."

"I presume you found our hospitality sufficient?"

"Even more than that." Yes, Carlisle's responses were courteous, yet clipped. One didn't need to have Jasper's skill to feel his anticipation.

"And Sulpicia tells me your Jasper is acquaintances with one of our own?"

As Carlisle confirmed, Jasper saw Aro's eyes linger over him before going to a corner of the room – where Maria stood, wearing a tight, red wraparound dress and looking at him hungrily. The sight of her made the breath stop in his lungs, and he struggled to keep his emotions in check, half so the others wouldn't feel, half so she wouldn't see. She thrived on things like that, knowing the fear and upset in her victims. Yet fear wasn't what coursed through him; anxiety, regret, anger, and disgust all mingled within him as he looked away from her, and he focused his mind on the image of his Alice so he might remember why they were there. Even then, he could still feel Maria's ruby eyes piercing his skin.

"Perhaps you might join us for our three o'clock meeting? We'll be conferencing in the head of research," Caius was saying as Jasper refocused his attention on the men before him.

Carlisle gave a noncommittal answer. "We shall see. Would he be the one helping to cure my wife and daughter?"

"I believe Aro would best know that answer," Caius replied, glancing over at his brother.

Aro rose from his chair, stepping forward and down the dais until he was face-to-face with Carlisle. Jasper stepped closer to the men, feeling carefully for any deceit within the ancient's words.

"We considered your pleas for quite some time," he began, and Jasper already felt himself bristling, ready for a denial. "It was not in our knowledge that our little experiments would cause such a reaction in those already of our kind. Though, to tell the truth, we never thought one of our kind would seek another transition."

He grinned then, as if he had made a little joke. When no one responded, he continued. "That being said, though this is a new turn in our studies, we believe we know how to cure your family."

"You do?" Carlisle asked, the hope in his voice just barely held back.

Aro nodded. "We had only given those bears a chemical compound. Ephedrine, steroids, the like, all enhanced with venom. We, and our scientists, believe another simple compound is all that would be needed for a cure."

Relief washed over them all like balm, and Jasper wasn't sure if it was their own or just his overflowing through everyone near him. In that moment, Maria disappeared, the Volturi were like angels, and Alice would soon be his again.

But then he caught the devious streak smuggling out from the trio of vampires. Jasper's eyes narrowed and he almost had time to speak before –

"What is it?" Edward asked allowed. "What more do you need?"

Aro smiled. "Ah, Edward, you and your precious gift have been a step ahead yet again."

"Just tell us what the trade off is" Edward said through gritted teeth, his temper dangerously high; Jasper didn't make a move to calm him, too worried about his own anger to pay attention.

"Not a trade at all!" Caius interjected. "We'd give you what is rightfully yours, in time, so long as you give us what is ours."

"Yours?" Carlisle asked, his voice quiet and low, his own version of a dangerous tone.

"We are broadening our horizons, Carlisle," Aro explained. "We are becoming men of science so we might further our talents, perhaps benefit the world. A doctor yourself, surely you understand that research must be done thoroughly or not at all."

Edward growled low. "You don't mean –"

"_Edward_." Carlisle cut him off in one harsh breath.

Aro continued. "We only ask that you give us the women so we might continue our research. We cannot vouch for the verity of our findings without following them all the way through in a controlled environment."

Jasper felt his insides boiling, rage spilling off of him and into the others. He hardly cared. The idea that he would willingly hand Alice over to these high-blown murdering fools? It made him sick, made him furious…and he made the others feel the same way until –

"_No!_" Edward leapt forward, ready to throw Aro to the ground. But Jane moved quickly, stepping between him and the dais to concentrate on Edward alone, attempting to fill his body with pain that somehow did not reach him. She stared, her eyes confused and angry as she realized Bella was concentrating just as hard to block her waves of pain. Jane growled low in her throat and backed off, just as Bella smoothed her hands over her husband's shoulders, calming him down.

"Bella, take Edward outside," Carlisle advised quietly, moving his gaze from his angered son back to the man before them. Bella nodded and helped usher her husband to the doors that led to the waiting area. Jasper and Carlisle, two husbands without wives, were left before the Volturi, staring them down with looks as strong as steel.

"Do you honestly mean to tell me that you want to experiment upon my wife and daughter?" Carlisle asked slowly and carefully.

"Hardly _experiment_," Aro replied. "Merely observe before determining the best course of action. If that action might be more testing, then surely you wouldn't mind –"

"_Of course I mind!_" This time it was Carlisle's turn to thunder, but Jane didn't move a step.

Aro stepped forward, apologetic and grave. "Carlisle, come, let us discuss it in our private quarters. Perhaps we can even call our research head early."

Carlisle looked over towards Jasper. "My son –"

"Will do just fine out here waiting for you." Aro's voice had become tinged with a hint of steel, the meaning behind his words not yet spoken. But Jasper could feel the slight vein of fear in the man, knew that he worried he wouldn't get his way if Jasper came along too. Carlisle was strong, powerful, but Aro was counting on his former tie to the Volturi as a weak spot. Perhaps he was weak there, but that weakness was counterbalanced by the strongest point in Carlisle's life: Esme.

"Go," Jasper urged him. "I'll wait here."

Carlisle nodded, clasping his son's shoulder once more before stepping to where Marcus had pushed aside a small curtain, revealing a hidden door they hadn't been able to see before. The three men, along with Carlisle, stepped inside, shutting the door behind them. As Sulpicia and Jane stepped out one of the side doors, Jasper was left nearly alone in the throne room. But just nearly.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," Maria drawled as she came closer towards Jasper's side. "If it isn't Major Jasper Whitlock kneeling at my feet yet again."

"Maria," he muttered through grit teeth.

She came to stand before him, crossing her arms over the swells of her chest. "They say you're here to save your little Seer. Is that true?"

He winced. "And my…Esme." That made him wince again, to deny his mother so. But here he was, standing before Maria, feeling things he hadn't felt in a good long while, and his tongue was tied so as a result.

She clicked her tongue against her teeth. "And you came to see what I could do. How very sweet."

Jasper glared at her then. "Hardly. The group you've joined up with is the one behind their illness."

"_I _joined up with?" she repeated with a sneer. "Have you forgotten so easily the power I have wielded? The Volturi _asked_ me to come, to strengthen them, to rouse their forces. Do you not remember those nights spent in battle?"

"I remember."

"Remember the smell of burnt flesh rising, proving our victory yet again…remember the blood that was our reward." She smirked and placed her hand upon his shoulder, rubbing lightly. "What of the other nights…do you remember those? The ones spent at my side, your hands –"

He wrenched away from her then, feeling sickened. Of course he remembered. Those nights were burned into his brain, but no longer with the fire he had received from them. Now, it was with guilt and anger he recalled giving himself – _all_ of himself – over to Maria.

But she was smiling, as if she knew exactly how he felt and was thrilled by his pain. "Oh, Major…don't act as if you're tortured by it. You came readily to my bed, don't you remember?" She grinned widely and reached out for his hand.

He yanked it away, spitting out, "I remember." Just saying that made him want to retch; it felt so much like a slap in the face, a betrayal towards Alice. She knew, they had spoken of it, and even still it hurt him to admit that once, long ago, he had been Maria's in every sense.

"It's been quite a while since we last spoke," she murmured, shadowing him with her steps.

"Yes, the last time you left me in a hole in the ground," he retorted.

"Which you obviously survived," she countered.

"Thanks to Alice."

Her eyes glowed ruby red. "She's saved you once? Twice? When it was me that saved you so many times before?"

"You are _nothing_ compared –"

Maria's voice was low and cruel in his ear, cutting him off. "And _you_ would be nothing without me."

Her eyes darted over towards the thrones then, focusing on where a sober-looking Carlisle, an agitated Caius, a sullen Aro, and Marcus in all his somberness were stepping out. Maria moved in front of him, suddenly all seductive smiles and down-cast eyes.

"Do let me know if there's anything I can do for you," she said softly, dragging her fingertips over his arm once more before stepping across the room and out the door.


	13. Gatsby and Daisy

Pens.

Notebook.

Laptop, and the charger.

And her phone, which Rosalie slipped into one of the small side pockets of her Coach satchel. Even with Esme and Alice suffering silently in their beds, class still went on, and Rosalie had used up nearly all of her lab absences during divorce proceedings. She buckled her bag shut and made her way down the hall, stopping the doorway of Alice and Jasper's room.

Alice, as always, was lying in bed, the blankets pulled up to her chest as if to shield her from unnecessary cold. Also on the bed was Emmett, sitting up at Alice's side and holding a fashion magazine in his hands. He was mumbling softly, reading from the magazine as one would read to a small child before bed. It was a rather sweet sight, and, as she watched, Rosalie felt a small pang of…love? No, certainly not. She didn't love Emmett, not anymore. He was only being a good brother. She was only admiring him for that. Only that.

Emmett turned a page and, in his movement, caused sight of her in the doorway. The corner of his mouth picked up in a little sheepish smile.

"I thought she'd be bored, maybe want to hear something new," he explained, shrugging his shoulders.

She nodded. "I understand."

He closed the magazine and put it on the bedside table. "Are you going out?"

"To class," she replied. "I have a lab tonight."

"Tonight?" Emmett repeated, a small hint of surprise in his voice that she couldn't quite figure out. He knew she had bio tonight. It was always on Tuesdays.

"I only have two more before finals," she said. But he pursed his lips as if he were displeased with the idea, yet said nothing. "Really, Emmett," she went on, "it isn't like they're going to wake up anytime soon. And you're here to take care of them, they won't miss me."

He nodded and let out a little grunt. "I guess."

"I'll see you later," she offered before stepping from the room. She waited for a moment in the hallway, hoping whatever had bothered him would go away and he would begin reading again – but the bedroom stayed silent. She sighed and reassured herself that whatever was going on with him was not her problem. She was his wife no longer.

It was a shock that the thought hurt.

She stopped to duck in Esme's dressing room, checking on the woman in the bed and looking over her hair in the mirror before she had to go downstairs. It had been a bad habit of hers, one Esme teasingly chastised her for, this stopping in her motther's room to attend to her toilet. And though Esme lay frozen on the bed, her bottles of perfume and gold-handled hairbrush were still there. Her string of perasl was still discarded on the table. Her calendar book lay open, and Rosalie looked closer to see today's date circled in red with two small letters scribbled in the corner.

_E & R_

"Oh, no…" she murmured to herself. Today. It was the first. She had completely forgotten their anniversary. Their 'first' wedding anniversary, the one she and Emmett had so long ago celebrated. How many years was it? Seventy something? Yes, that was it. Seventy five. Oh, she couldn't go to class on this night. Even after their divorce, something was calling to her to stay with him. So _that_ was what Emmett had been so upset about. He probably didn't even want to see her now, but…even so, she left Esme's room and walked back down the hall, pausing in Alice's door. Emmett had picked up the magazine again, but wasn't reading just yet. She cleared her throat, and he looked up.

"I, ah…I decided not to go. I…I'll be downstairs."

He smiled a tiny bit, and as she turned away, she heard him call out.

"Happy anniversary, Rosie."

She bit her lip then smiled, privately, to herself, so he might not see.

"Happy anniversary, Em."

* * *

"You can't _really_ be thinking about giving in to their requests," Edward growled, clenching his fists tightly.

"If it is for the safe return of my wife and daughter…" Carlisle trailed off, his mind finishing the rest. _It is the only option we have. What else can I do?_

"You can fight it!" Edward insisted.

"I agree with Edward." Jasper's voice was hoarse, as if he barely wanted to speak even as the words were coming out of his mouth. "Giving Alice to the Volturi…there has to be some other way."

"What other way?" Carlisle asked, the hysteria in his tone just barely held back. "Fighting back? What if they decide to take them anyway? What if they ignore them and we _never_ get them back? There is nothing to do! This is our only chance!"

Bella stepped forward, glaring at the two other men as she wrapped her arm around her father's shoulders. "Calm down, all of you. It'll be fine, Carlisle. Somehow we'll figure it out."

_A very good lie_, Edward heard Jasper think bitterly.

Carlisle sighed, took a deep breath, and sighed again. "Give me some time. An afternoon. I…I'll think it over."

Like a shot, Jasper was gone, slamming the heavy oaken door behind him before Edward had a chance to catch his thoughts. Bella glanced at him worriedly as she urged Carlisle to the couch, sitting beside him and rubbing his back.

"Is that what you really think is best?" she asked gently.

Carlisle was silent for a moment, even his breath stilled in his lungs. "I don't know," he said slowly, heavily. "How can we possibly know?"

_If Alice_… his mind echoed silently, his eyes fathoms of sadness. Edward sighed and came towards his wife and father.

"We need to weigh the options," he said reasonably. "You're a man of science, Carlisle. A man of facts. Let's lay out the facts."

The words seemed to shake some sense into the doctor, and he sat up, nodding. "Yes. You're right."

"Good idea," Bella chimed in. "So, if we…if we give Esme and Alice to the Volturi, the pros are…" She trailed off, unsure.

"They'll be cured," Carlisle supplied. "If we allow Aro and the others to have their way, Alice and Esme will be cured. Whatever it is that they took will be counteracted, and any others of our kind that consume it can be cured too."

"And the cons?" Edward asked.

Carlisle stayed quiet, almost as if he refused to see that there could be any bad outcomes when it came to his wife and daughter.

"What if they're not cured?" Bella replied quietly, barely whispering the suggestion, as if even allowing it to become vocal would have extreme consequences. "What if, even though Aro and Marcus and Caius take them in, they can't fix them?"

"And what if they can," Edward added, "but it's just the beginning of a long, drawn-out process of tests and experiments? Ones that continue for months, _years_, and we can't get to them until they claim they're done?"

Carlisle stood and began pacing. "And what if we take them home? What then?"

Bella pursed her lips. "Maybe we could research ourselves. Find out what it is that's harmed them, try to find the antidote. You're a scientist, Carlisle, you could do it. And Edward and Rosalie both have their pre-med degrees, and Emmett has his chemistry. We could figure it out on our own."

"And we'd have them home," said Edward. "Even if they weren't whole, wouldn't you rather them be home with us than being poked and prodded and God knows what else by the Volturi?"

"But we don't _know_," Carlisle insisted. "They could wither away without the cure, we may never find it. And if we do, what if it's the wrong thing?" His eyes went wide and fearful. "What if I cause more harm to them than ever before?"

Edward stood before his father, stopping his pacing and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You would _never_ do that. You know it."

Carlisle hung his head, weary, and looking every inch his age.

"That's all there is to it," Bella said. "Pros and Cons. It's all laid out. So…what now?"

_What now, what now_… Carlisle buried his face in his hands. _What now, Edward? What can I say?_

"Bella." Edward held a hand out to his wife still on the couch, a hand she took and let lead her from the room. They left Carlisle standing alone in the stone room, his sadness filling the empty room as they closed the door behind them.

Edward started to walk down the hall, pulling Bella with him, but her feet stayed planted on the ground, just outside the door. He looked at her, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong as she shook her head.

"No," she murmured softly. "No words. Just…just hold me?" It was a small request, and he was happy to oblige, wrapping his arms around his wife's middle and tugging her against his body. Their flesh met and gave against each other, pressing tight, almost as if the two combined to become one being. They didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there, hold each other, the last whole couple of the family. Last to meet. Last to marry. Last to survive.

* * *

Even though they hadn't been in the same room, being near Emmett on their anniversary made Rosalie feel a bit better. Almost as if they were a family again, patching up the rough spots and trying to fix things between them. Maybe this could all work out. She had been feeling better towards him lately. He had too, she could tell. They could be something again. Nothing like they had been, no, but something. Brother and sister? She shuddered a bit at that. No, brothers didn't do things to their sisters like Emmett had. Brothers didn't have six-pack abdominals or sinfully large hands or a tongue that could –

No. The brother and sister thing would _definitely _not work out.

Rosalie leaned onto the sofa, shuffling the biology notes she had been looking over. If they couldn't be brother and sister, they'd just have to live somewhat awkwardly in the same house and hope for the best. It would get better over time. It already was. She and Emmett could smile at each other now; that was quite a start.

She reached for the remote, flicking the plasma-screen on in a blaze of color and sound. Emmett had left ESPN blaring, it seemed, and she turned down the volume and turned on Project Runway. Tim Gunn was consulting a hideous concoction of lime green taffeta and deconstructed black lace, and she settled back against the cushions, waiting to see if the designer could really 'make it work.'

"What's on?"

Emmett slumped onto the sofa next to her, his shoulder bumping into hers. She glanced over at him.

"Project Runway."

He groaned. "Come on, Ninja Warrior is about to start."

Well, he did _whine_ like a brother.

"No way," she insisted. "After all, it's our anniversary. You should let me watch what I want."

He snorted. "No way, babe. An anniversary is about _two_ people. You and me. And it's _me_ that gets to pick." He lunged for the remote but she jerked it away, holding it just out of his grasp.

"Ladies first," she said with a snicker.

He reached towards her again, his hand clipping hers, nearly snatching the remote from her fingers. She squealed and slid the remote underneath her body, hiding it from his searching fingers.

"Unfair!" he cried, glaring at her from his end of the couch.

She grinned. "Completely fair. Just too bad for you."

He growled low, a sound she knew so very well – the one he made just before springing into action. She watched, her face frozen in a half-scream half-laugh as the familiar play began.

He was on her in a millisecond, pinning her down and gripping her wrists in his hands. She writhed beneath him, nearly shrieking as he moved to hold both her arms in one of his palms, giving him a free hand.

The look in his eyes said it all. "Don't you dare," she threatened him, trying to bring her leg up to knee him in the gut.

"Try me," he said with a toothy grin…just before his hand lowered and he began tickling her mercilessly.

"Emmett!" she managed to gasp between giggles. "Emmett, stop!!"

But he only laughed and laid into her harder, moving hands over her arms and belly so she laughed too. He put his knee against her leg, holding her pelvis down with his as he wriggled his fingers over her torso, making her writhe more and more. She arched her back, giggling and pressing up against him…until the friction, that lovely pressure between them, started. Her giggles died away, leaving her short of breath and staring up at him, watching his face as it grew darker, more serious…more sensual. His thighs slid open slowly, accommodating her body between them.

Rosalie seemed to move without thinking. Her hands slipped from Emmett's grasp and went to his shoulders, holding tightly there. At the same time, one of her thighs slid up his, pressing between his legs to find that thick, hard, heavenly weight between. Then, with a movement so slow and gentle, Emmett leaned down…further…further…until finally, his lips met hers. His touch was gentle, a caress like silk against her mouth, his breath warm but sending cold shivers down her spine. Yet it was as if she had no spine, she had given in so easily, pressing herslf against him, sliding her tongue through his lips, giving in, giving herself, and –

"_No_."

"No?" Emmett repeated. Rosalie shook her head and shrank back into the cushions. She couldn't do this. Again. Slowly, she slipped her hand underneath her back, fishing under the cushions for a moment and holding the remote out like a peace offering. Emmett took it, never letting his eyes meet hers, then moved, leaning back against the far side of the sofa once again. The air his absence left behind was bitterly cold, as was the silence as she crept upstairs to be alone.

* * *

Jasper walked like a man possessed, his eyes focused straight ahead, his feet nearly flying off the ground, not caring a whit who he ran into, even as he nearly plowed Marcus into a wall. He could only sense where he needed to go, yet he knew exactly what he had to do. This would be their only solution, he was sure, and it was up to him to procure it.

He had found the door, and he knocked in a sharp rapid staccato. Maria smiled languidly, leaning on the jamb as she opened it.

"My, my. What respects have you come to pay, Major?" she asked, her eyes raking over his body as though she owned it.

He swallowed hard, gathering all his courage, uttering words it nearly killed him to say.

"I need a favor."


	14. Cupid and Psyche

Bella bit her lip as she glanced sideways towards her father. Carlisle sat on the very edge of one of the plush chairs, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands, his fingers folded over his mouth as if to hold back any unsavory comments or cries. He had assumed the position fifteen minutes ago when Alec had ushered them into the atrium, and Carlisle had not broken his pitiful stance since then. Likely would not break it in the thirty or so minutes it would take until they were brought into the throne room. She prayed that whatever he was thinking of in his stasis, it was bringing him to a final decision. He hadn't given any clues that said he had figured out what they would do, and Edward had said even he couldn't see what the decision was, the man was so wracked with doubt.

Edward too was sitting hunched over on the sofa next to her, looking serious, but he turned to meet her gaze when he felt her stare on him. He smiled, a trifle sadly, and accepted her hand as she reached out for him, opening her mind and letting him in.

_Edward_, she thought, letting him hear her silent words, _has he made a decision yet? Does he know what we're going to do?_

Slowly, Edward shook his head, his eyes pained.

_Not even a hint?_

He shrugged his shoulders and squeezed her hand. "He keeps going back and forth. Neither is stronger. We…we'll just have to wait and see."

She spoke aloud next, her worry too great to keep silent. "Where has Jasper been? I haven't seen him since yesterday."

Again, Edward shrugged, and even Carlisle in his frozen state winced.

"He knows how to take care of himself," Edward reassured them. "He's done it many times before. He can do it again."

"But…" Bella looked back to Carlisle, then spoke silently again. _Without Alice, he's likely to do something drastic_.

He didn't respond, but his face was enough; her fears were his own. They hadn't seen a glimpse of Jasper since he had left the room so abruptly the day before, and his absence led the mind to wandering. Jasper was not the type to sit idly by while his family…specifically his wife…was in trouble. He was a soldier, a man of action. And it was that action that Bella and the others so worried about.

An electronic buzz sounded somewhere to her right, and Bella watched as Edward pulled his cell phone from his pocket, quickly reading the message he had just received before sliding the phone back into his trousers.

"Emmett," he said simply.

"Are they well?" Carlisle asked in a hoarse voice from behind his hands.

Edward nodded. "No change. He and Rosalie are caring for them both but…no change."

Carlisle retreated back into himself, Bella slumped over on the sofa, and the doors on the far side of the atrium flew open. Maria strode through, a self-satisfied smile on her face, her chestnut hair streaming behind her with the fast pace of her walk. Also behind her was Jasper, walking with his shoulders thrown back and his stride sure but his face deadened and empty.

She paused in front of the seated three, her hands on her hips as she looked them over. Bella found herself averting her gaze, unable to look into those smoldering burgundy eyes of Maria's. The stories she had heard Jasper tell…she squeezed Edward's hand tighter and made sure her shield was up, protecting them all.

"Have you gone in to see Aro and the others yet, Doctor Cullen?" Maria asked, her voice almost feigning sweet curiosity.

Carlisle looked up wearily. "No…not yet." He shook his head sadly, yet his eyes met hers with a sort of determination even Bella could feel. It was as if he thought Maria might help them. The idea was almost laughable; given Jasper's past, she doubted anything Maria ever did was to help others.

But Maria smiled again and said, in that sweet, clear, cruel voice, "Against my better judgment, I've decided to help you."

* * *

Ever since the night before, the silence had been deafening. Emmett hadn't been able to stand it and had locked himself in his bedroom, blasting Ludacris just to fill the empty space. It was music that would not have been permitted had everyone been home – Edward called it noise and Carlisle called it trash, but the strong rhymes and thumping bass drove the thoughts out of his head enough for him to relax. For a bit. When Rosalie poked her head in the door and asked him oh-so-meekly to turn it down, his heart nearly beat in his chest, and he shut the music off altogether.

Who was he kidding? No matter what he did, he couldn't get that woman out of his mind. His heart. Whatever it was, she had control of it still. And damn if it didn't kill him every day to know that she didn't want anything to do with him. The way she withdrew from him every time he tried to be nice. How she avoided him with classwork or her cars or anything convenient. How even when she seemed to be completely into it, she shirked from his touch. What was wrong with him? Hadn't he done his time for that stupid magazine stunt?

But then again, wasn't she just as much as fault as he was? Sure, he had needled her again and again until she threw a bed through a wall…but she hadn't been a picnic either. Her and her histrionics, her attention-seeking drama fits, her stupid games to make him jealous. Yeah, maybe they worked, but could he forgive her for them? Could they forgive each other?

Emmett found his feet moving almost of their own accord, taking him from his room and down the hall, to where the elder of the sleeping women lay. His mother looked almost like a princess in a fairy tale, with her toffee-colored hair lying on the pillow around her pale, lovely face, and Emmett knelt at Esme's side almost reverently, watching her in her supposed sleep.

It was to her he had always come with his problems, especially those concerning Rosalie. Esme had always listened with a caring…or slightly disapproving…smile, had let him talk himself out, then led him towards the right path in a way that made him truly think about what he had done and what he must do. Now, with her…well, more or less gone…who would he go to? But maybe still she knew he was there. Maybe still she would hear his troubles once again.

"Esme?" he murmured softly, hoping his voice was reaching her somehow. "I really need you now. I mean, we all need you, but…I have no one to talk to. And…things are really screwed up. With me and Rosalie. She just refuses to try anything. Maybe it wouldn't work out again. I can understand that. But…we wouldn't know until we tried, right? And you always had sway with her, she always listened to you. I wish…I wish you could tell her…to get over it. We need to get past what happened, no matter what's gonna happen in the future. Because otherwise it's going to tear the whole family apart. Even more than it is now."

He bent down and kissed his mother's forehead.

"Wake up, Esme," he pleaded gently. "For me. For Carlisle. All of us need you."

But still she remained, silent as stone. And as Emmett turned to leave, he thought maybe, _maybe_ he had seen a flash of golden hair disappearing through the door…but no, it was just the lemon-colored curtains swaying in the wind.

* * *

"Help us?" Edward repeated, listening carefully to what Maria wasn't saying. His Spanish wasn't poor enough that he didn't understand her silent, foreign words. "For what? What's this tradeoff?"

"Not a tradeoff at all," Maria countered. "Your brother came willingly. He _offered_ himself to me."

"No!" Bella cried, shooting to her feet beside her husband. Carlisle rose too, a quick, snapping motion one wouldn't have thought he could do in his melancholy state. Each pair of golden eyes flickered malevolently, glaring Maria down as she smirked. Jasper, standing behind and just to the left of the woman, stared down at the ground, his face settled and empty of emotion. Even his mind was empty, a steady buzz of commentary on the floor – an obvious attempt to keep Edward out.

"Yes," Maria replied. "He came…in exchange for this."

She held a plain folded piece of white paper out, her eyes meeting Carlisle's. The man stared at it, questioning her motives for just a moment, before taking it from her hand and opening it. He read silently, yet the words echoed in Edward's mind as plain as day.

"The formula?" Edward asked Maria, wondering at once how she had got it and exactly what Jasper had given up to get this from her. It was a simple list of chemicals, ones that Edward knew would have extreme reactions with each other, not to mention when combined with the collection of highly-potent newborn venom that was also on the list of ingredients.

"The antidote should be simple to find, now that you have that," she commented lightly, almost laughing, as if she had bestowed upon them a mighty gift. Yes, truly, it was a gift, one that they were beyond pleased to have obtained, but at such a price? It was almost hard to accept.

_Do it_.

The words were strong, the voice familiar. Edward looked over to his brother and found him still staring down at the floor.

_Do it, Edward. Take it. Thank her. For Alice. For Esme._

Slowly, Edward found himself clasping his hand on his father's shoulder, squeezing gently as he murmured, "Thank you."

Maria grinned. "You're so very welcome. I do hope it will be of service to you."

"Wait," Bella called out. "How can we even know this is really it?"

"She's right," Carlisle concurred. "Edward?"

He nodded and concentrated for a moment, peering into Maria's mind to make sure that…yes, this was the real formula. The antidote would be theirs to discover, now that they had this small list of chemicals to work against.

"It's the real thing," he explained, nodding his head and focusing again on his brother as Carlisle gave Maria his stilted thanks. Jasper barely glanced up – blackened eyes meeting honeyed – then looked back down to the floor.

_For her. I do it for her. Let her know that._

Edward nodded, knowing Jasper would feel his assurance even if he didn't see it.

_Tell her I am hers, no matter what. And I'll come to her. It's only a hundred years_.

They didn't have a spare moment to speak. Maria turned, knowing that she didn't have to beckon for Jasper to follow her. His deadened eyes raked over them as he moved to her side, walking through the atrium doors that led to the throne room.

Bella was the first to collapse, sinking back to the couch she had jumped up from in a fluid motion. Carlisle soon followed. Edward, too angered and upset to sit, paced instead, from one end of the room to the other.

A hundred years? Edward blanched at the thought, unable to stomach the idea of being separate from the family, separate from _Bella_ for so long. He had tried it once more and had been reduced to a decaying statue in a few months' time. How could Jasper so willingly give up his freedom, knowing that he faced such heartache?

But Edward had done the same thing, hadn't he? Not so very long ago. And had he known he would be reunited with Bella, he might have been able to make it through that time apart. That would be Jasper's hope, he prayed. The idea that, in time – a long, long time – he could return would keep Jasper from the utter despair Edward had once lived in without his wife.

"Edward," Bella called out, her voice soft and pained. He stopped in his pacing to look over to where she sat, stretching a hand out plaintively. He came over towards her, sitting at her side and holding onto her tightly.

"What now?" he asked to no one in particular.

Carlisle sighed, his mind echoing the torture he felt. "We have what we came for. And…I don't know if there's anything to do for Jasper. Is there?"

No one spoke, none of them able to think of a way out of this. If Jasper could somehow leave on his own, he certainly would. Yet he would not leave on his own for fear it would mean disaster for his wife and family. The honor-bound man wouldn't allow anything to happen to them, not if he could prevent it. Staying here was the only way he saw to do that.

"Then that's that," Carlisle said, his voice nearly breaking. Even though they gained back Esme and Alice, to lose Jasper was another heart-wrenching blow that would surely make the next hundred years pass by as if they were a millennia.

* * *

Jasper gritted his teeth as he and Maria walked closer to the thrones where Aro, Marcus, and Caius sat. Maria paused in front of the three, bowing slightly, her long hair falling over one shoulder. Aro smiled, pleased, and reached a hand out to her should, absorbing her thoughts into him.

"My, my," he said with a little smile, his eyes flitting over to where Jasper stood. "A Cullen has at last decided to join our flock." His face beamed with the look of a collector having finally completed his set. "What brought along this change?"

Maria looked up. "I was able to persuade him."

Persuade? Jasper hid his grimace. No, it was more like an offer he could not refuse. To turn away something that would help to save his Alice…he couldn't do that. He had joined them only to save her. He was Maria's in name only. His heart still belonged entirely to Alice.

The air was filled with curiosity, pleasure, all feelings that, had Jasper been in a better mood, he would have almost enjoyed. Everybody was watching him, wondering…everybody except one. Within the swarms of smirks, one genuinely upset heart rang out, someone feeling truly sorry for Jasper and his plight. His eyes scanned around trying to find the person who –

Marcus. Marcus, the lonely, the soulless, was pitying him, Jasper, who could very well someday be just as empty and hollow inside as that red-eyed man upon the dais.

"Why don't you escort our newest member out, Maria?" Aro suggested, breaking into Jasper's thoughts. "We have some business to discuss with his…well…with the Cullens." His smile was kind no more; a tint of pleasurable cruelty ran through it instead.

"Of course," Maria replied. "I'll take him to my…_our_ chambers."

She threaded her arm through his, tugging his compliant weight through the door and away from his past.


	15. Laurie and Jo

Though Esme was asleep, there was still work to be done, and when Emmett found her to-do list lying underneath her bedside copy of _The Awakening_, he made sure to start on it, wanting to have everything finished by the time she awoke.

The siding was hosed down, the kitchen tile re-grouted, and the leaky faucet in Edward and Bella's bathroom had only required a quick trip into town for the right parts. Rosalie had begrudgingly permitted him into her garage to fix the squeaky door, and he had kept his eyes averted from her denim-clad legs-for-days while he finished WD-40'ing the machinery. She hadn't said much, but their stoic politeness he had been used to since the other day. And so he ignored her, though he half wanted to scream at her, half wanted to grab and kiss her, and instead went to work on the front porch.

A simple powerdrill was all it took to fix the loose porch railing, and he had only just finished it when a dark four door car, simple and unimpressive, pulled up to the house and parked down the drive. Emmett stood up, doing his best, and succeeding, at looking tall and intimidating – an unnecessary thing, as Carlisle stepped out from the passenger seat of the rental.

"Carlisle!" Emmett barked, coming down the stairs quickly to stand by his father. "What are you doing back? Did you find the cure? Did they give it to you?"

Wearily, Carlisle fished inside his overnight bag, pulling out a scrap of paper with a complicated-looking list on it. "Here. This is what they were given. It's up to us to figure out the antidote."

Emmett took the list from his father, staring down at the configuration of venom, steroids, andaccelerants, his mind already coming up with solutions for each compound and wondering if they would work together. "So, they just gave this to you?"

Carlisle looked back to the car where Edward was removing the bags from the trunk and Bella was closing the door. Jasper –

Jasper was nowhere to be seen.

"They…traded…" Emmett's voice trailed off, unsure and sickened by the thought.

"You're back!" Rosalie appeared around the corner of the house, her jeans now streaked with oil and her face jubilant. All at once, Emmett felt the sudden urge to cradle her close to him, to make sure that she was there and safe and his. Even though she wasn't.

"Where's Jasper?"

Rosalie's question made everyone wince, but Emmett's pained look quickly turned into an angry glare.

"The Volturi have him," he muttered. "Those no-good assholes decided to keep him in exchange for –"

"No," Carlisle replied hoarsely, cutting him off. "He offered himself."

"He…he _what_?" Rosalie cried.

"You let him just…give himself up?" Emmett asked, whirling on his father, shock on his face.

"It's his honor, Emmett," Edward spoke up gravely. "He gave himself up to save Esme and Alice."

"And now we need you," Bella added.

Emmett suddenly realized all eyes were on him. Him _and_ Rosalie. He stared back questioningly. "Me? Why?"

"You can find the antidote," Carlisle replied. "With your chemistry background and Rosalie's access to the university labs, you can work together to help cure them."

Together. Work together. It was the opportunity he had been craving, and he would be the hero. It was so tempting…but what if he couldn't do it? What if he only hurt them more? What if he hurt Rosalie more and she hated him forever? No, there were too many bad ways this could turn out. He couldn't.

"You have to," Edward said, breaking into his internal monologue. "Where else can we go? I'll help too. We all will. This is our only chance, Emmett."

He sighed….thought for a moment…and…

"We'll need some sort of identification," he said, surprising himself at how strong and assured his voice sounded. "Bella, can you manage that?"

In a weary voice, she replied, "I'm no Jasper, but I'll try."

His assignments were fast-paced and strong, Emmett taking the helm like he had been born to do it. If there was anyone who was going to save this family, it was going to be him.

And if it made him look good in Rosalie's eyes, that was just a bonus.

* * *

It sickened Jasper to stay in that room with her. The darkness of the décor, the nauseating promise of the sumptuous bed, and the horrible, barred-in feeling that came from having no openings other than a thick oaken door he was fairly sure was surreptitiously guarded whenever he was inside…all of it made him almost physically ill. Not to mention how Maria insisted on constantly touching him, running fingers over his skin, laying a hand on his shoulder, a palm on his thigh, as if to prove her ownership of him.

One hundred years.

One hundred years.

It was, all at once, his mantra and his horror. It killed him that he would be there for a century with her, but it would be worth it in the end. It was only one hundred years. Roughly 36,525 days. _Humans_ were living that long nowadays, for heaven's sake. He could make it. For Alice, he could make it.

For Alice, he would suffer through the stares and hushed whispers of everyone around him. For her, he could stick to the diet he had taken to, even when the humans they ushered in to massacre were so incredibly tempting. For her, he would withstand Maria's seductions and stay faithful to his wife. Embarrassing as it would have been in any other situation, he was thankful his body had betrayed him and he hadn't been able to 'rise' to the occasion. Maria had gotten furious and had nearly torn his arm from his socket – for the second time in his lifetime – and had banished him from her sight for the time being.

He took the opportunity and ran, as far away as he could, getting lost in the castle until he found himself in a small, circular room. It was sparsely decorated; a long, pale pink divan took up much of the room, and a little, elegantly-carved writing desk was across from it, a chair pulled slightly out of the way as if the occupant had left in a hurry. Indeed, there was a half-finished letter sitting on top of the desk, as well as a dried-up pot of ink and an old feather quill. Everything was covered in dust inches thick, excepting a small stack of books on a table next to the divan. Jasper picked one up, flipping through it quickly. It was a small book of Italian poetry, simple pastoral odes to the countryside. The worn, battered, dog-eared pages showed that the book had once been much-loved by the person who had kept it, apparently a young girl who had inscribed her name in the front page in scarlet ink, _Didyme_.

Jasper shut the book and placed it on the table next to the others, crossing over to the far wall. There was one solitary opening to the outside world, a slim crossbow window through which he could just see the town far below. It was so very far away. Just like everything was for him. With a sigh, Jasper rested his head against the hard stone of the wall, wishing he could be absorbed into it, rather to remain there as in a dungeon than with Maria for one hundred years.

He was not alone. He realized it suddenly, which was strange and new. Usually he could feel people's emotions growing stronger as they approached, like a scent you could only pick up but grew more and more intoxicating as you grew closer. This time, the feelings of curious pity hit him suddenly, a wave of emotion he could not ignore. Jasper turned around, finding Marcus standing in the doorway, looking as dead and sullen as ever.

It was almost like looking in a mirror.

Marcus moved with the silent grace of a ghost, staying close to the perimeter of the room, his eyes scanning over the furniture there. He stopped just before the table, his hands easing over the stack of books and pausing over the one that Jasper had put down, as if he knew immediately that it was out of place. Anger suddenly flooded the man's system, a feeling so strong Jasper was shocked that it came from Marcus. He half expected the ancient to whirl around and kill him immediately, his ire was so great, but instead, the man turned slowly, his eyes seething as they met Jasper's gaze.

"I…I'm sorry," he apologized softly as he went into a half battle-stance, preparing himself just in case. "I only came to…to get away and…" His lame excuse faltered there, and he searched his mind for what to say to put everything to rights. Alice would know what to say. She always knew what to say, what to do. The bitter loneliness that seeped through him at that thought made him almost want to weep, and he had to look down at the floor for a moment, gathering himself. In the moment it took to gather his control once more, Marcus's fury had faded, and he was back to the near-soulless being he had always been.

"I'm sorry," Jasper apologized again, keeping close to the wall as he hurried towards the door. "I won't return."

It was a promise he would have no problem in keeping. He had no desire to see that kind of wrath reawaken in the man, for fear of what might come from an anger so long buried. Jasper returned to his wanderings, finding instead another tower, a larger one that held a fairly extensive library. He didn't need Alice's gift to know he would spend a great deal of time here. Without her, this would be his one comfort. This, and knowing that somewhere out there, she was happy and healthy and waiting for him.

He pulled the thickest book he could find from the wall – ah, Tolstoy, an old favorite – and settled into one of the leather armchairs to read. He pored over the book until the sun went down, signaling to him that he needed to leave. Maria would be waiting for him in their chambers, wanting him to accompany her to the meal. Even though he refused to partake, she still brought him, delighting in the strain in his muscles and the pain on his hungered face. He knew she hoped one day he would break, but the image of a small, laughing, dark-haired angel kept him strong. He could do this.

_War and Peace_ was returned to the shelf, and Jasper made his way through the castle, finding it easy to make his way through now that he had mapped out the halls with his footsteps. Getting lost would happen no longer. He counted it as his first accomplishment during his hundred-year torture, and nearly smiled as he turned down the hall to where his and Maria's room was. He had nearly reached the room when the door opened slowly, and he automatically tensed himself as if readying for a fight. But it wasn't Maria who came into the hall. Instead, Marcus stepped outside, his face as still and calm and numb as ever. He reached out one long, shriveled fist, holding it with his fingers down. Jasper held out his palm to accept the man's offering – a small silver lighter. Without a word, Marcus stepped aside and continued down the hall, letting Jasper enter the room on his own. Entirely on his own, save for the small pile of charred grey ashes still smoldering in the center.

* * *

"Maybe…something like an antivenom?"

Emmett nodded at Edward's suggestion and added it to the whiteboard. They had strung together enough of a story to get laboratory access from the university, and Emmett, Edward, and Rosalie were currently in the building after hours – _much_ after hours – pondering what it would take to find the cure for the AMC Labs compound they had already recreated and left boiling away in a beaker.

"I still think we need to find something to counter each composition," Rosalie spoke up. "An antivenom might work, but will it stop a steroid? Maybe we need a suppressant in addition."

"Good idea. But we can't have anything that cancels something out," Emmett added, scribbling furiously on the whiteboard. "What we need is…" His words stopped yet his mouth kept moving, speaking silently to himself as he moved to a clean board, drawing whatever came into his head and praying it would be the right thing.

"Maybe –"

"Just wait," Emmett cut his brother off, continuing to scribble, equating and figuring and finalizing until…

"There." Emmett stood back, staring at the board with a self-satisfied look. All the compounds within the formula were counterbalanced, everything equal and settled and cured. This would work. It had to.

"Emmett," Edward said as he came to stand next to his brother. "This is it. You're a genius."

He grinned. "Took you long enough to realize," he couldn't resist quipping.

"So all we have to do is gather the components, right?" Rosalie asked.

"And add them in properly, yes," Emmett replied.

"I'll go see what the labs have that they might not miss," Edward offered.

"And I'll call Carlisle," Rosalie said. "Maybe he can use his contacts at the hospital to get what we need."

Emmett nodded at them both and began pulling out beakers, test tubes, droppers, setting them all up in the configuration he knew he would need. Only the slightest bit of fear ran through him, doubt that no matter how perfect the solution seemed he might mess things up worse. To have Alice conscious right now, just to see if it would work out…but this was how normal people, humans, even ungifted vampires had to work. He could do it too. They had survived without Alice before, and he could survive without her now, if it would lead to having her and Esme back.

Rosalie hung up and slid her phone back into her pocket. "Carlisle says he can call Dr. Weber and get us whatever isn't here, but someone will have to go get it from the hospital."

"Edward will have to go," Emmett said as he moved a test tube rack into place.

"Are you sure? I mean, I could –"

"I need you here in case someone gets too suspicious. You're the only one with a real ID."

She smiled a little. "Alright. What can I do?"

"Grab that second burner, would you?" Emmett nodded to where it stood on the counter.

"Here, I brought what I could find," Edward said, coming in with his arms full as Rosalie brought the burner over. "Desoxycorticosterone, benzodiazepine, and oxacarbazepine."

"Good, the benzodiazepine will take the longest to prepare," Emmet replied, taking the bottle from him and holding it up, peering at the label.

"Where are we going to get the rest?" Edward asked.

Rosalie was on top of her game, scrawling out a little list for him and handing it over. "Carlisle's already called these in to Dr. Weber at the hospital. You need to go pick them up and bring them here."

"I'll be right back." He moved so fast he barely had time to grab his coat before he was gone. Rosalie turned to face Emmett, all business and ready to be put to work.

"Set up that burner," Emmett said as he fastened a beaker to a metal holder. "I figure it's better to work in two small batches rather than potentially ruining one big one and having to start all over."

She nodded and followed his instructions, setting her station up the same as his – only pausing to slip a long white lab coat over her clothes.

"Rose, it isn't like any chemical can actually hurt us," he said, needling her with a slight lift to his lips.

"Yes, but I'm not going to let some stupid acid spill ruin my Michael Kors," she replied somewhat haughtily, but with a teasing smile as well that he couldn't help but grin at. They had the cure, they were on their way to bringing Esme and Alice back to normal, and Rosalie was joking with him. The world was looking slightly sunny again.

Emmett measured out the benzodiazepinecarefully, depositing it in the beaker before passing the bottle on to Rosalie. She followed suit, squinting to make sure she got it exactly right as Emmett attached his thermometer to the side of the beaker.

"This setup is positively ancient," he complained, checking the pipeline for any leaks before turning on the flame.

"They're thinking of using Carlisle's donation to fund a new wing," she said brightly as she moved the beaker directly over the flame. "What next?"

"We wait. Hopefully Edward will be back by the time the water boils out."

Emmett hopped onto one of the desks, swinging his long feet back and forth lazily, nervously, staring at the benzodiazepine that had yet to reach the right temperature and wondering if they had truly gotten it right.

A slim hand came to rest on his knee, calming him, bringing his body to rest.

"It's going to be fine," Rosalie said gently, her words easing him more than anything could…yet upsetting him all the same.

"Is it, Rosie?" he asked, his voice a trifle bitter. "With Esme and Alice, maybe, but Jasper's gone. And how are things ever going to be 'fine' with us divorced and living in the same household?"

She shrank back a little at that, but put on a carefree, haughty, hurtful face. "We just have to is all. Everyone has to get used to that fact."

"No, Rosalie. No, they don't. Maybe for once, for _once_, you could just suck it up and admit you were wrong."

"I…!"

"Yes, you. You were wrong about this whole divorce thing. You were just being your stubborn self, behaving like a selfish little girl who didn't get her way, and you jumped to the wrong conclusion."

"Excuse me, but _you_ had a pretty big part in that conclusion."

"I'm not saying I didn't, but I'm not the one who filed the papers."

She glared at him, her stare nearly enough to bring the beaker to a boil. "But you signed them, didn't you? I kept the tiniest little bit of hope in me, thinking maybe you wouldn't sign, maybe you'd forgive me for being a colossal bitch –"

"So you admit it!"

"I admit I did some shitty things. But you did too."

"Sure I did, but they were all to get you back!"

They were silent for a few moments, Rosalie watching Emmett while he stared at the floor, his shoulders moving with the unnecessary but calming breaths he was forcing himself to take.

"You wanted me back?" she asked softly.

He shrugged his shoulders, still staring at the floor. "For a time…yeah."

"And…do you still? Want me back, I mean?"

He swallowed, and she watched his Adam's apple jog up and down as he did. "I…I dunno. I don't even know if it would work out, Rose."

A small pair of feet in simple but no doubt expensive black flats came into his view as he stared at the linoleum. She was so close to him, so very close that he could reach out for her hand without too much movement. Pulling her body flush against his would be the work of a millisecond. And yet he couldn't. It was she who had started this whole mess. And she would be the one to end it.

"We…could make it work out," she suggested softly, her words hitting his ear so gently, nearly making him lose his cool.

"We could?" he repeated. He had tried to make it work out, had tried before the divorce, had tried after in so many ways. It wasn't a 'we' thing anymore.

"I could," she corrected. "I…I'm sorry. I'll fix things. We'll try again…please?"

He looked up. She was incredibly close to him, her eyes inches away from his, her stare full of regret and sorrow and hope. In that moment, he held her heart, her very life in his hands, just as she had once held his in that forest so long ago. His eyes had been darker then, a ruddy hazel, but hers had always been the sweet golden they were now. Golden and trusting and loving. Eyes he had stared at for over seventy five years. That he couldn't bear to never see again.

"Promise things will be better this time around?" he asked slowly.

Those lovely eyes of her lightened then, crinkling at the edges as her mouth drew up in a grin. "Better. So much better. You won't even recognize me. Low maintenance is now my middle name."

He let out a barking laugh. "Yeah, right. Whatever you say, Rosie."

* * *

It would've been so easy to lose herself in the happiness that came with Emmett's resolution to try again, but there was work to be done. Rosalie kept a careful eye on the beakers, only glancing at Emmett from the corner of her eye every so often, just to make sure he was still there, that this wasn't all a dream. This had to be the cure. Esme and Alice would be well. And she and Emmett would be together again. It was the stuff of dreams and yet it was real.

Edward knew something was up the moment he came in – how could he not? – but he said nothing, only let a small smile creep onto his face as he shook his head. Dr. Weber had given them everything they had not found in the university stores, and the liquid benzodiazepinehad begun boiling out soon after Edward had arrived, just in time to add the oxacarbazepine and reduce the heat.

Rosalie watched Emmett work and mimicked his movements, making sure to be just as meticulous as he was in his measuring and pouring. The two antidotes had to be identical for both Esme and Alice to be cured and not harmed. Though she had little doubt now that this would not work; Emmett worked with the precision of the best scientist, Edward monitored, detailing exact ingredients, and she followed with the best care she could possibly give. Together, they would save them.

And together, some five hours later, just an hour before the school reopened and they had to disappear, they were finished. The concoction they had created was a red, transparent liquid that Emmett bottled up carefully and packed along with the syringes Edward had nipped from the hospital.

"Do you think we'll have to inject it?" Rosalie asked as they locked the lab up behind them and made their way out of the building.

Emmett shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not the one with the medical degree," he replied. "But I don't know if they'll be able to swallow in their state. Injection would be the next best thing, wouldn't it, Ed? But how can we get a needle in their skin?"

Edward sighed. "We'll see what Carlisle says when we get home."

He called the house as they drove back, speaking in as calm a voice as he could manage while he explained that they had created the antidote – or what they hoped would be it. A few minutes after they called, Rosalie pulled the car into the front drive, parking it as Carlisle and Bella came down the porch steps, looking anxious.

"Well?" Carlisle asked, his tone showing how much he was trying to hold back his hope.

Emmett pulled the two small bottles from his bag, holding them up so the red liquid caught the early morning light.

"You did it, Emmett," Bella said as her face broke out into a smile.

"_We_ did it," Emmett corrected, looking over at his brother as his hand found his wife's, a motion both Carlisle and Bella noticed but left unspoken of. It was simply another step closer to having their old life back. Rosalie and Emmett were together again, Esme and Alice would be back…and in time, Jasper would too. They had survived as a broken family before. They could miss one more piece again, with the promise of its return looming before them.

"Come," Carlisle said with a voice showing how both excited and petrified he was. "Esme first."

As a family, they stepped inside the house, went up the stairs, and paused in Esme and Carlisle's room, surrounding the bed where Esme lay, a sleeping princess with her faithful retinue encircled around her. She had not moved nor been moved since Carlisle had placed her on the bed two weeks ago.

"How will we do this?" Bella asked.

"Dr. Weber gave you a syringe, yes?" Carlisle asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers slowly stroking Esme's frozen cheek.

Emmett placed one of the bottles of the antidote and a packaged, sterilized syringe on the bedside table at Carlisle's elbow.

"Thank you," he murmured, reaching for them without taking his eyes away from his wife. He plunged the syringe in past the rubber stopper, filling it up with every drop there was. Everyone watched with bated breath as he pulled the needle from the upright syringe, keeping the liquid within, holding it in his shaking hand as he opened Esme's mouth. He nearly spilled the solution as he moved it closer, and Emmett put a hand on his father's shoulder.

"Here, let me." He took the syringe from Carlisle's fingertips as Bella helped the man to his feet, holding tight to his arm while Emmett took his place on the bed.


	16. Tony and Maria

Bella's arm was strong, but Carlisle wondered if she would be able to hold him up…or hold him back…should something terrible happen to his Esme. He had always prided himself on keeping a cool, sensible demeanor and a level head that got him through the worst of situations. But now, with his wife's existence being put to the test…no, he just had to put his faith in Emmett. If he didn't, he was liable to do something drastic in the coming seconds.

Emmett reached down to Esme's mouth, opening her jaw wider before slipping the syringe in. He slowly eased the solution down her throat, massaging her neck to coax it down. A small thrum of physician-based pride went through Carlisle as he watched his son perform so well, but it quickly flickered out and was replaced by that steady pulse of fear and worry.

They waited a minute. Then two. Then ten. Yet nothing happened.

"She…?" Edward's voice was questioning, worrisome, and Emmett could only shrug his shoulders as he stood from the bed, letting Carlisle sit down beside his wife once again.

"If Jasper were here…" Rosalie trailed off sadly.

"What do we do now?" asked Bella.

"Wait," Carlisle said simply. "No one touches Alice until we give the antidote time to process. If there's…." His voice broke, and he had to swallow a few times before going on. "If there's no change in a day's time, we'll try again."

Emmett nodded. "We'll be downstairs." He reached for Rosalie's waist, tucking her body close to his for a moment, then left the room with her, Edward and Bella soon following.

Carlisle was left alone with his wife, and he sat on the bed by her side, holding one of her small pale hands in both of his. He wasn't sure what he had expected to happen. The doctor in him knew some miraculous change was unlikely. She would not sit up and talk and throw her arms around him in a moment's time after being in a comatose state for weeks. Yet some part of him, the foolish part of him, thought perhaps just hoping would be enough. That she might pull a Snow White and open her eyes with a smile and be whole, be his again.

He rose from the bed, falling into doctor-mode when his hopes had failed. He checked for an unnecessary heartbeat, breaths that didn't come, blood pressure that didn't exist. Her vitals were nonexistent, the same as they had been for the last hundred years, and they worried him now more than ever before.

What would he do without her? What would he be? His life before her had been fine, but commonplace. Ordinary. And she had made it extraordinary with her very existence, even before she had been his. No, she was not his. He was hers, entirely. His heart, every fiber of his being, belonged to Esme. How could he function without his soul? In a swift movement, he knelt beside the bed and began to pray.

_God_, he begged silently, _if it is Your will, bring her back to me. Our family is not complete without her. __**I**__ am not complete without her. And…and if she should…if it is Your will to bring her to Your kingdom…keep her safe until I come to join her._

He squeezed Esme's hand tightly, as if he could touch the hand of God through the angel he had before him. Still, she did not stir. And still, he waited.

* * *

Bella had settled on the loveseat next to Edward while Rose sat in one of the armchairs and Emmett sprawled at her feet. Someone had turned the TV on low, and the gentle hum and flicker of light was a comforting distraction from their fear.

"It has to work," Emmett said aloud and yet to himself. "I wouldn't have tried it if it wasn't going to work."

"How do we even know that was the real formula to start with?" Rosalie asked glumly. "Maria might do anything."

"Jasper knew," Bella volunteered. "He wouldn't have done what he did if it wasn't real. He wouldn't hurt them like that."

The silent that settled was an accepting one, the thought ringing true in each person. If Jasper had given up his freedom, surely it had been for something he knew would help his wife and mother. Though whether or not it would really help remained to be seen.

Bella's phone went off in her pocket, an electronic peal that made everyone in the room jump a little. She pulled it out and looked at the screen; a text message from her daughter, asking if everyone was okay. Bella glanced up at her husband, unsure what to say.

Edward pondered the thought for a minute before sighing. "Tell her we're waiting to see. That's all we can do."

She texted the girl back and returned the phone back to her pocket after she silenced it. The family couldn't handle any more jarring noises now, not when…

_Good Lord…_

The most intoxicating scent she'd had in a long time filled her nose, nearly lifting her up and off her chair with its sweet intensity. Even without thinking, Bella found herself rising to her feet, her eyes half-closed as she took a step forward.

"Bella?" Edward asked as he came beside her.

Emmett stood too. "Don't you smell that?" he asked, a hungry look on his face.

Edward closed his eyes and took a deep inhale. "It's…"

"It's human," Rosalie finished, her voice teetering between strict denial and wanting to give in. "We should ignore it."

"But what human comes here?" Edward asked. "We're in the middle of nowhere."

"Hikers?" Emmett suggested.

Bella shook her head. "No…it's coming from inside the house." She left the room on a whim, knowing it was dangerous, but knowing also that she _had_ to find out what that scent was. It was so different, so appealing…even if she wouldn't allow herself to taste it, she had to at least see where it was coming from.

The trail of fragrance led her up the stairs, a short way down the main hall and into –

"Oh, my God…" Bella halted in the doorway of Carlisle and Esme's room, realizing just what, just _who_ was so very tantalizing…and with it came the realization that something was very, very wrong.

Carlisle was kneeling beside the bed, his forehead pressed against the edge of the mattress, his hands folded and pressed tightly to his lips as if in prayer. Esme lay on the bed in the same position as she had been for weeks…yet a change had still occurred. Her thick caramel hair had lost its luster, her skin had darkened from alabaster to a creamy beige, and, had she been able to open her eyes, Bella was sure they wouldn't be the normal honey color they always were. Something in that antidote had changed her – saved her, it seemed, with the way her chest rose and fell shallowly and her heart weakly beat, but it had changed her all the same. Esme was human.

"Carlisle," Edward said, loud enough to startle the man from his genuflections. Carlisle looked over to the door where the foursome stood, all of them tense and hungry, their eyes black and darting towards the living, breathing, blood-pumping figure on the bed.

It took a minute for him to understand, but then Carlisle looked towards the bed again too, even his steely composure cracking as his lips trembled and he leaned towards his wife's human form, taking her scent deep in his lungs.

"Is…is this the cure?" he asked lowly, looking to Emmett.

He swallowed, his eyes nervous. "I didn't think she…it must be the antivenom. It woke her but…"

"She's human," Rosalie whispered, her eyes wide, shocked, almost calculating.

Edward stepped forward, his breath still in his lungs so he might not be tempted, though the stiffness in his gait showed how very hard it was for him. Esme, the kind, the caring, smelled just as sweet as a human as she was in her immortal life. Taking care to not inhale, Edward pressed his hands to her throat, feeling her pulse for a few seconds…thirty…a minute, before he looked round wildly.

"She's dying," he said to Carlisle, serious and urgent. "She's just like she was all those years ago. Human, but dying. Carlisle, you have to save her. Her pulse is thready. She'll be gone in a few minutes."

"Dying?" Carlisle repeated hoarsely.

Edward grabbed his father under the arms, pulling him to his feet and facing him. "It's now or you lose her, Carlisle. What are we going to do?"

Carlisle was frozen for a moment, his eyes on his wife, watching as her breath got slower and slower, her heartbeat an audible sound in the room, the pauses between each _thump_ getting longer every moment. The tension, bloodlust, and fear in the room was nearly at the breaking point.

And then, with a swift, sudden movement, Carlisle leaned towards the bed, snapping his jaws around Esme's neck with a ferocity so unlike him. It was something nearly all of them had experienced, Carlisle feeding at their vein, but they had never remembered it. And now it was there, so plainly in front of them, so base and animalistic and almost erotic. But it was saving her; Esme was shivering underneath Carlisle, letting out painful little moans that only grew in intensity as he sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Go," he muttered, his voice harsh as he resumed his vigil next to the bed, holding her now-trembling hand in his. Esme was back, cured of the poison that had frozen her body, going through the change once more that would bring her back to the woman they knew, the mother and wife they loved.

"Carlisle, perhaps we should stay," Edward offered. "What if she –"

"Please." Carlisle's plea was harsh and plaintive.

"What about Alice?" Rosalie asked.

He hung his head. "Later. I can't…again…"

"Later," Emmett agreed and opened the door wide, ushering the others out. As a group, they went downstairs, finding respite in being together as they settled in the living room again.

No one was able to speak much in the moments that followed. The silence was a shocked one as each took in what had just happened. Bella, the newest of the flock, was feeling it the worst, the scent of Esme's newfound and fading humanity filling her nose and making her mouth water venomously. Edward seemed to cling to her tighter, knowing that as much as the desire was for him, it was twofold for his wife.

"Will she be alright?" Rosalie murmured aloud, voicing their shared and unspoken thought. Though Esme was seemingly cured of the poison that had wracked her system, the change that was happening right now was a dangerous one. One she might not survive.

"She will," Emmett replied, holding her hand, putting their doubts to rest with the firmness of his voice. "She went through this before. We all did. Carlisle won't let anything happen to her now."

The cries came louder from upstairs, moans of pain as Esme's now-human body was subjected to the torture of the change once more. Bella winced and paced across the room, opening two of the floor-to-ceiling windows to let in the cool air. It barely helped, but she stayed at the sill, inhaling deeply.

"What of Alice?" she asked, not turning from the window.

"I suppose once Esme's come through it, we'll administer the antidote and Carlisle will change her again too," Edward replied.

"So three days until then, and then three days after until she's well. Six days until we're back to normal," Emmett said with a little sigh.

Rosalie shook her head. "No. One hundred years."

Jasper's absence was a palpable thing, something just as painful as the holes left by the sleeping women upstairs. For even though Esme and Alice were missing, they would soon return. It would not be the case with their brother.

"We'll make it," Emmett said encouragingly. "And so will he."

"But you don't know that," countered Rosalie. "The Volturi are awful, they might –"

"Stop," Edward commanded suddenly, and the tone of his voice was one to obey. Bella wondered if perhaps he couldn't stand the thought of them losing the brother who had sacrificed so much…but then he rose to his feet with such a look of purpose in his eyes that she knew it was not just that. Had something happened to Esme, something they couldn't feel?

"Edward?" she asked, coming to his side. Edward took a step forward, shielding her with his body as if he felt danger approaching.

She heard it then; the footsteps coming towards the house. Footsteps thundering so loud, only those of their kind could make them. Before any of them could race out the door, it flew open, the unseen vampire stopping short in the front hall.

"Jasper?" Rosalie gasped.

It was him – or a vision of him, looking wide-eyed and bedraggled, the hunter green button-up he wore nearly ripped to shreds. Somehow, someway, he had gotten free from Maria's clutches and had returned home, a blessed yet worrisome sight to them all.

"Where is she? Is she well? Is she cured?" he asked in a rush of air, his eyes darting around like a wild animal.

Everyone replied in a rush.

"What are you doing here?"

"She'll be fine."

"I thought you were with Maria!"

He held up his hands. "Enough," he murmured, looking weary. "Just…where is she?"

"I'll take you," Bella volunteered, stepping forward from the agape group and taking his elbow to lead him upstairs. She was quite aware they were being followed by the others, but she did not stop, to ask them to remain behind or otherwise. The trembles running through her brother made her continue on. She could see Jasper's chest tighten and his breath halt as they passed the room where Esme lay. Her thick human scent was near-pulsating through the air, a temptation to them all that they fought hard to ignore.

And while Esme was going through the change that would end but ultimately save her life, Alice was lying in her bed, the same as always, dressed in the nightgown Rosalie had changed her into yesterday. Jasper froze in the doorway the moment he saw her…then rushed to her side in a nanosecond, kneeling next to the bed and poring over her face with his fingertips.

"She is still…isn't she?" Rosalie asked from the doorway they all still stood in, just to make sure.

Jasper leaned close to his silent, sleeping wife, closed his eyes…and nodded.

"Yes," he replied. "She lives. But…the cure?"

"We think we have it," Emmett replied.

"Is that what you gave Esme?"

"Yes."

"And will Alice…"

"The antidote cured her of everything. Even what we are," Emmett went on.

"Is that what you want, Jasper?" Edward asked his brother.

"Is there really any other choice?" Jasper hoarsely countered.

The siblings stood silent again, each pondering the question. Was there any way out? Could a cure be found that wouldn't cause such pain for Esme and Alice? Not to mention the rest, those who had to stand by and watch, listening to their screams of pain, smelling their sweet changing blood in the air. They didn't even truly know if Esme would be alright. Could they subject Alice to the same torture?

Carlisle came into the room then, looking tense and harried. "Rosalie, could you go sit with Esme?" he asked as his glazed-over eyes scanned the room…then widened when he saw Jasper kneeling by the bed. His mouth opened and shut, unable to form words for a moment. "How…what…you're _home_."

"I am," Jasper answered simply.

"But…Maria…"

"She's…taken care of."

He said nothing more, no one pressed, and Rosalie slipped out the door to take care of Esme. The rest resumed business.

"When can we cure her?" Jasper asked in a tone that was at once determined and slightly fearful.

"We should wait," Emmett and Carlisle said in unison at the same time Edward and Bella chorused, "Now."

Exasperated, Jasper huffed out, "Well, which is it?"

"We should wait to see what happens to Esme," Carlisle suggested. "If…if she is hurt…"

"She won't be," Emmett insisted. "But maybe we can calibrate a second antidote."

"A second antidote?" Edward repeated. "The one we have is fine. It cured her. I can hear her thoughts again, painful as they are. She'll be back soon."

"After she has to suffer the change again," Carlisle muttered, half to himself.

"What if that's the only way?" Bella asked. "Or what if something happens to Alice before we find another cure. If the Volturi decide to come after her, what then? She –"

"_Enough_!" Jasper commanded once more, the second time in the space of a few minutes. "The antidote, Emmett. Please."

"Jasper, really," Carlisle pleaded.

Listening well, Edward spoke up for his brother's silence. "It's his wife, Carlisle. Did you not just do the same thing to save yours?"

"But this is also our daughter, your sister –"

"Just as Esme is our mother." Edward placed a hand on the man's shoulder, staring into his dark, anxious eyes. "Let him choose."

Carlisle was quiet, gathering himself, stepping away from the worried, frail man his family's illness caused him to be and becoming the clearheaded doctor once more. That was what they needed him to be right now, and so he would.

"Emmett," he said quietly, "go get the antidote. And my bag."

* * *

Emmett didn't move as quickly as he should have. Maybe if they gave him time, Jasper would change his mind. Truth was, Emmett was feeling the weight of what had happened. It was his antidote that had nearly killed Esme. It had been a cure, yes, but a curse too. And it was all his fault.

If he only could have a little more time. Maybe if he reduced the levels of antivenom within the compound. Yes, just enough to cure what they had been given but not enough to…no, that wouldn't work. He'd have to raise the prednisone then, and that would mess up every other calibration. She'd go into shock, or worse. Emmett growled angrily to himself as he walked down the hall.

Rosalie's head popped out of the door he was trying to get to, her expression worried.

"Something wrong?"

He shrugged. "Nothing I can fix." It was true. This seemed to be the only cure he could come up with and it was causing more harm than good at the moment. Jasper refused to be talked out of it, and Alice would be in such pain, all because of him. Jasper would be furious, even though he was the one consenting, and Emmett would have to bear the brunt of it.

Rosalie opened the door wider and let him in, and as he entered the bedroom, he quickly averted his eyes. Esme was writhing on the bed, her pained movements punctuated by bitten back groans and strains of her scent wafting over to him, pure and mouth-watering. He shook his head to clear it and stalked over quickly to grab Carlisle's well-worn leather satchel near the bedside table.

"Emmett?"

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and looked back. Rosalie was sitting in Esme's chair near the window, her hands folded tightly. Too tightly, he could tell. She was upset, stressed, the same as they all were. He went to her and smoothed a hand down her cheek, sighing a little at the familiar feeling. It had been so long…okay, not _so_ long, considering his lifespan, but he was achingly glad to have her back nevertheless.

"Is Alice going to change too?" she asked, leaning a bit into his hand.

He nodded. "I think so." If Jasper had his way.

"And…you're upset about that?"

She was insightful, even without a gift. He had forgotten that. "I don't want to cause her that pain. The way Esme is…if I can fix that, I ought to."

Rosalie pursed her lips. "But you can't, can you? I mean, the way you've made it is the only way it will work."

"Yeah, I know."

"So, it's either going through this, or waiting for something else to happen. And that isn't going to get us anywhere, is it?"

He sighed again, shaking his head. "No. You're right."

She put her fingers around his wrist and squeezed gently. "We're starting over again, you and I. Just like they have to start over again. It'll be a new thing for all of us, and I think it'll be good."

Emmett bent down and pressed his lips to hers, savoring the feeling for a moment before drawing back.

"You're pretty amazing, you know that?" he asked with a slight smile.

She grinned. "Yes, I know."

He rolled his eyes at her vanity; it was something to be expected, and he had _almost_ missed the habit.

* * *

When Emmett returned to the room, Jasper hardly noticed. He had blocked nearly every sight and sound around him and could do nothing but focus on the small, still body on the bed. He was back home with his Alice, and soon she would be back with him entirely. Even if they had to go through the horrors Esme was enduring, they could do it. They had been through much more. He clasped the little hand beneath his tighter and pressed it to his lips, just as a palm settled against his shoulder.

Carlisle stood behind him, a needle-less syringe full of red liquid in his hand – the antidote, no doubt.

"It's time," he said softly. Jasper nodded and shifted, sideways, refusing to let go of his wife's hand. Whatever it was that needed to be done to her, he would be there at her side. And when it came time to change her, he would do it. She had resurrected him from his old life. He would bring her back just the same.

Carlisle eased in on the other side of the bed, parting Alice's red lips and injecting the serum down her throat. The doctor's hands massaged the column of her neck, easing the solution down, helping it to course through her. Jasper held on to the girl's hand ever tighter, watching, waiting to see if something, anything would happen.

The moments passed. And nothing occurred.

"It isn't working," he spat angrily, feeling his heart shrink and grow cold at the thought of life without her.

"It was this way with Esme," Bella spoke up from where she stood. "Give it time."

Time. Time…he had waited so very long. Didn't he deserve her back now? He had gone through life as a human, life with Maria, life on his own, before coming to her. She had been the one bright light in his life, and she had been cruelly snatched from him. He wanted her back now, simple as that. He _deserved_ her back now and –

He growled low in his throat as hands approached Alice's body, a territorial beast protecting what was his.

"Jasper, calm yourself," Carlisle ordered, showing him the stethoscope he held in his hands. "I only want to check her."

Jasper swallowed and nodded, feeling more than slightly ashamed. "Go ahead."

Carlisle leaned close, pressing the stethoscope to Alice's chest.

"Anything?" Emmett asked anxiously.

The doctor held up a finger, signaling for silence, and Jasper felt his entire world come to a sudden, blazing halt. Would she…was she…

"Do you hear that?" Carlisle asked, looking up.

"Hear…?" Jasper repeated, straining to listen.

"It's the same as Esme," he explained. "She's human."

Jasper looked over his pale, fragile wife, trying to see if…yes, she was different. Her skin was a sallow, grayish color, not her usually creamy white, and her hair was lank and dull. She looked as if she had been kept far away from the sun for many years…which was exactly how she had spent her last remaining days as a human. It made all the sense in the world. But…was she still his Alice? Underneath this changed exterior, was she the same woman he had fallen in love with? The same woman who…_please, God_…loved him?

"Listen," Edward murmured. "Her heart."

Jasper quieted his thoughts for a moment to listen, wondering if it could all really be true. If she had been cured, then all he had to do was change her. It was as simple as that. As simple as the soft, thudding beats echoing in the air, the ones that signaled that she truly was there, truly was well. Life had come back to Alice; her heart was beating, her veins were pulsating, blood was coursing –

It came upon him in a second. The bloodlust was like nothing he had ever felt before. Every human he had ever met had been a temptation to withstand, but not like this. Never like this. The scent of the humanly body calling to him was without a doubt the best thing he had ever been near, and he…he just couldn't…couldn't stop himself…

His jaws were clamped around her neck in a moment, sucking down that sweet, pure liquid that put the fire in his belly to rest. _Dear God, _she was good. The best thing he had ever tasted. He needed more. More.

"Jasper, you have to stop now."

No, no, he didn't have to stop. He needed her. Needed it. Needed to keep drinking.

"Jasper. Stop. _Stop_."

_No_.

"You're killing her, Jasper! Stop!"


	17. Radames and Aida

"All done."

Rosalie looked into the closet with a calculating eye, checking to make sure everything was tidy and in order. Moving Emmett back into their room was a tedious affair, but they had done it quickly and without stopping. Yes, it was an avoidance of the happenings in the house, and yes, it was a distraction for the two of them. But it was a chore that needed to be done, and it was finished in only a day's time.

"Well?" Emmett asked, looking at her from the bookshelf where he had just finished moving his novels back. "Satisfactory?"

She nodded. "Everything's finished."

"Finally." He moved to the bed, falling onto the thick mattress with a sigh. Rosalie watched him for a moment, happiness and worry swirling in her.

They were together again, but for how long? Would it last this time? Would they be able to get back to the way they were? Could she forgive him? Could he forgive her? And what of Esme and Alice? If something happened to them, it almost didn't matter whether or not she was with Emmett. The family would fall apart nevertheless. And then there was that final question plaguing her mind…

"Come here, woman."

Emmett had sat up on the bed, one strong hand reaching out for her. She allowed herself to be pulled up onto the mattress beside him, resting her head on his chest and hooking a leg over his. It was almost peaceful to lie here with each other, just together, nothing else.

The heavy scent of blood in the air was quite a killer, though.

"What's the problem, Rosie?" Emmett asked into her hair. "You as thirsty as I am?"

She smiled a little at his attempt to lighten the mood. It was true; the smell of Esme and Alice's change was making her throat burn and her mouth water. But no, that wasn't the real problem. "Are…are we going to be okay?" she asked warily, not letting her eyes look up to his.

She could almost see his brow furrowing even without looking. "What do you mean? We're together, aren't we?"

She sighed. "Yes, but…will we stay that way?"

A finger came under her chin, lifting her face towards his. His stare was calm and sure as he spoke. "I have every intention of making this work. For the rest of my life. Do you?"

She smiled a little and nodded. "So does this mean we get to have another wedding?"

Emmett laughed, a great booming sound she had missed so very much. His eyes crinkled with joy, he said, "I suppose so. We _are_ divorced, after all. We have to make things official."

She cuddled into his side, a slight smile on her face as she began to daydream of Vera Wang gowns and an Agent Provacateur splurge for their honeymoon to…Paris? They hadn't been to Moscow in ever so long, and Emmett had loved it there, even if the accent he faked was horribly annoying. Or maybe the island. Maybe they could go in the sun. Safely, without fear. As if they were human.

Human.

"Rose?"

She looked up, broken off from dangerous ideas that were beginning to swirl in her head. Apparently it was Emmett's turn to worry; he only puckered his lips that way when stressed.

"What is it that's bothering you? That's not all it."

She sighed; even if Emmett wasn't the most insightful of men, he still knew her inside and out.

"It's just…" She faltered, then began again. "Esme is human. Alice, too. Just from a serum that _we_ made. If we could change them back, maybe…"

"Carlisle's tried work with antivenom before, long time ago. It didn't help him at all. And this only worked in affect with the formula they ingested," Emmett replied gently. "We don't know how it would work on its own. It might kill you."

"Or…cure me." She was almost ashamed for suggesting it. She had a wonderful life with Emmett and Carlisle and Esme and the others. Why would she want to shun it? But it had been her desire her entire immortal life. To be mortal once more, to raise a family, to grow old with the one she loved.

With Emmett.

If she became mortal, he would have to as well. She couldn't do this without him. But…they'd have to leave the others behind. It would be too painful to grow old and watch them remain the same, knowing they'd have to leave them someday.

Leave each other someday.

What about when she died? And what if Emmett died before her?

"If that's what you want, Rose…" Emmett sighed and pressed his lips to the top of her head, his words almost muffled by her hair. "We can do it if you want."

Just knowing that he would do that for her, that he would give up all that for her, was enough to settle it.

She shook her head against him and tilted her face up, kissing him sweetly. "I love you, Emmett."

Even without saying it aloud, he seemed to understand, and she held him tighter, thanking God, thanking him.

His voice broke the silence that settled around them. "Do you think they'll be okay?"

Rosalie wished she could say something truthfully. If for once she could have Alice's gift…but the girl was still lying in that bed, her screams muffled through the door, her life hanging in the balance. No one could know what would happen. And so she said the only thing she could think of.

"I hope so. I truly, truly hope so."

~*~

Edward closed the book he had been glancing over absently, knowing that little of the information was going into his head. Taking a correspondence course in Medieval French Philosophy had been a good idea. It was a time consuming process, it kept him busy, kept him active. But now was not the time he could devote his mind to his studies. Not with the house in such turmoil. And not with Jasper one floor below him, his mind almost screaming in silence as he watched over Alice.

The fairy-like girl was changing before all of their eyes, her skin paling, her body seizing, pained moans erupting from her mouth. As hungry as they were, and as unhappy as it made them to see her in such pain, every person in the house was pleased at the signs both she and Esme were showing. The change was progressing as it should. Esme would come to rights very soon now, and Alice to follow. There was only one person who was not pleased.

From the second Emmett and Carlisle had managed to strong-arm the man away from his dying wife's vein, Jasper had been in a state of constant torture, angry at himself for having done what he did, sick with worry that she might not make it, and disgusted with the continual hunger that plagued him. Tasting her had not made him stronger and resistant; he only desired it all the more. Yet despite the fact that the most delicious scent he had ever inhaled was currently assailing his nasal passages, Jasper still remained at Alice's bedside.

Everyone had gone in to check on them, as well as Esme, but it had been a while for Edward. He placed his book on William of Champeaux at the top of his desk and pushed out his chair, stretching his legs for a moment before heading down to the second floor where Jasper and Carlisle were keeping vigil.

The stairs ended just outside Carlisle and Esme's bedroom, and Edward stopped to look inside. Esme had grown still on the bed, her body working the last of the venom through her system. He could hear the faint thoughts coming from her mind, little moans of pain…and remembrance. Even as hurt as she was, she was still silently calling out for her husband. Carlisle, like always, was on his knees next to the bed, his mind a mixture of pleas – to God, to Esme, to himself, all begging for the same thing, the return of his wife and daughter, a return to normalcy for his family.

He felt almost like a thief, standing there and listening to his father's private prayers, and so he made his way down the hall, pausing again in another doorway, looking into Alice and Jasper's room. Jasper had pulled a chair close to the bed and was sitting there, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, keeping guard over his wife. Just like Esme, Alice was on the bed, growing still, but her body gave a pained jerk every so often, still processing much of the venom through her still-human veins. The change would be longer for her, and for now, her thoughts were still a reflection of pain. But she was there, conscious, changing, and she would come back fully soon.

Jasper's mind was almost as pained as Alice, but a very different sort of pain. He was so incredibly guilt-ridden from what had happened, blaming himself not only for Alice's pain but for allowing her to become ill in the first place.

_If I had only gone with her,_ he thought to himself, _I could have saved everyone from this whole mess._

"You couldn't have known," Edward spoke up gently. "No one did. Not even her."

Jasper glanced up at him, his eyes black and sorrowful. He opened his mouth to speak…but nothing came out. Thinking instead, he said silently, _But I still could have stopped her. It could have been me instead. I would know how to deal with this sort of pain_.

"She knows how as well," Edward replied. "We all do. We've all gone through the change before."

_But she's so fragile_…

At this, he had to laugh. "Alice? Fragile? Her being asleep for so long must have made you forget. She'll remind you soon enough."

_To me, she's fragile_, Jasper explained. _If I were to lose her, what would my world be?_

Edward came over to put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I understand," he said softly. "If I lost Bella…again…well, we've seen what happens then. But you won't, Jasper. She's going through the change. She'll be here soon."

Jasper gave a derisive snort. _After she goes through the pain __**I **__caused her._

"You had to. Someone had to change –"

"I nearly killed her, Edward!" Jasper thundered loudly, speaking – shouting – for the first time in two days. His shoulders were shaking in anger, and his jaw was clenched tightly as he stared up at his brother. "I bit her. I couldn't help it. And I almost…almost…"

"I know," Edward cut him off, not wanting him to have to say it. They had all seen how dangerously close Alice had been to death's door, and how it had been Jasper to usher her there. "But you held back. You were strong enough to stop."

"Only after Carlisle and Emmett pulled me back."

"Come on, Jasper. They wouldn't even have been able to do that if you had any true desire to continue. Admit it."

"Still…it's my fault she's in such pain."

"Pain that will save her." Edward squeezed his shoulder again. "You can't blame yourself so. What you did is returning her to us. We thank you."

Granted, that thanks was carefully balanced with the thought of what might have happened…but it hadn't, and Alice was here. That was all there was to it.

Jasper nodded gravely and turned back to Alice on the bed, his hand going towards her pale face, hovering over her skin but not quite touching. "All for her," he murmured. Edward wasn't sure who he was directing the words to, but he let them have their time, silently slipping out the door and leaving them alone once more.

~*~

The pain. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt before.

No, that wasn't right. She had felt this pain before. This exact sort. But it had been long ago, so very long ago…

Carlisle. Carlisle had been there. He had bitten her and she had turned into one of his kind. They took her from the morgue. They…Edward had helped.

Edward. Bella. Rosalieemmettjasperalice. The names hit her like a wall, making her remember. A family. She had a family. Children to return to. A husband who loved her. She needed to get back to them.

It was then that her eyes opened.

She was staring at…the ceiling, wasn't it? Yes, the ceiling of her bedroom, with its high vaults and art deco fixtures she had found at that flea market in Olympia. She turned her head, craning her neck to look around…and catching a glimpse of a light-colored head bowed against her bedside. Two pale hands were folded as in prayer, rising above the head, and it was those hands she grasped in one of hers gently.

Carlisle's head shot up, his eyes bewildered and his mouth agape. "Esme," he whispered, almost as if the word was a prayer.

"What…" Her voice was hoarse and came out as a rasp. She cleared her throat to try again, still speaking huskily. "What's happened?"

He rose to his feet, standing at her side, both his hands enclosing around hers. "You…you were sick, my darling."

"Sick?" she repeated. The last thing she could remember was the cleaning frenzy…an unpleasantness with Carlisle about her not feeding…

And, dear God, she was _ravenous_.

"Do you remember the bears you and Alice hunted?" Carlisle asked, breaking into her hunger-laced thoughts.

She searched her mind…then nodded. "But that was so long ago…"

"Four months," Carlisle replied.

No, that wasn't right. "It was three."

"It was four. Esme…you've been asleep for nearly three weeks."

"A-asleep?"

It was a concept she couldn't comprehend. Sleep had been something she hadn't had in a hundred years. For her to have spent the last three weeks of her life in that state…it was mind-boggling.

"Why? What happened to me?" Panic began to course through her, adrenaline making her worn body alert. "Carlisle, please –"

"Calm down, Esme," he said gently, putting one of his hands to her cheek. "You're fine now. Jasper got us the formula, Emmett and Rosalie made the antidote. They saved you."

"The formula?"

"Those bears were an experiment. The Volturi put a compound in them that you ingested and that we had to counterbalance. The only thing is…"

"Is…what?"

The hand on her cheek went down to her neck, caressing her there. "The antidote cleared the venom from your system….you became human."

It was too much to take. Esme closed her eyes tight, screwing them shut and blocking everything out. Everything but the feeling of that hand caressing her. Still keeping her eyes shut, she murmured, "And now?"

She heard Carlisle give a soft sigh. "I changed you. Again. You're…I suppose a newborn, again. But you're back."

It would be difficult. She knew it would be. But opening her eyes and seeing her husband standing before her – the man she had wanted as a human, as a newborn, throughout her entire life – seeing that steadfastness, that determination, that love in his gaze…yes, it would be difficult. But it would so be worth it.

~*~

Esme had been awake for nearly four hours now, and Carlisle had even wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to the patio to let to sun warm her. Since the moment he had announced that she had risen, everyone had seen her, spoken with her, and had been showering her with love and support.

Everyone except Jasper.

Alice hadn't come to yet, and so he kept his vigil. However, she had begun to still as the change within her finished, both a blessing and a curse. She was coming back to them, back to _him_, but the pain she experienced had been immense. It had all been because of him. And he had sat there to help her through it…and to let that pain reflect through him. It was a stupid thought, perhaps, to think that by sitting there he might absorb some of the hurt and lessen it for her. But if it did any sort of difference to her, to help to ease her, then it was worth the stupidity reflected upon him tenfold.

And though he had been sitting there for the nearly three days since he had bitten her…_almost killed her_, he thought bitterly to himself…he had not touched her once. It felt like he would only sully her perfection by placing his murderous hands on her. Instead, he smoothed the sheets over her body, rested his hands near her, or kept them clasped tightly together, his knuckles standing out palest white as he squeezed as hard as he could. He needed her here. He needed her back. And the waiting was getting harder and harder as time went on.

What if when she woke she didn't remember him? What if she was a true newborn, with no knowledge of their past? If she denied him…the very thought sickened him. He could not go on without her. He had gone through everything for her, had been willing to put himself in the hands of his enemies for her. And if, when she awoke, she had no recollection of him, no desire to be with him…that was it. He was through. There would be absolutely nothing left for him on this earth.

Edward would help him, if that was the case. Edward, who had gone through the denial of a lover so long ago. His brother had even come to him to ask for death, a request Jasper had denied – at Alice's insistence. She had said that something had to come of it, and that death would not be the answer. Would he carry her words with him, even now, if she did not care for him? Could he possibly go on living if she –

The faintest threads of confusion entered the air, confusion that was not his. Jasper's eyes shot over to –

Yes. _Yes_. Alice's eyelids were fluttering open, her rosy mouth straining before…

"Jasper?"

_Oh, dear God, she remembers me_.

Her eyes had yet to fully open when she called his name. He was the first thing on her mind when she awoke, and his entire being was rejoicing.

"I'm here," he said, leaning over her, his face just above hers so that when her eyes did open, he was the image she beheld.

Her eyelids parted slowly, opening fully to reveal bright red orbs – the eyes she had once seen staring out of his face, now misplaced in hers. He bowed his head for a moment, all at once thankful she was back, praising she was his, and cursing that it was him who had ruined her so.

A small hand pressed against his cheek, and the feeling was intoxicating.

"Jasper…"

He looked back up to see her frozen, her mind processing whatever future event had come to her. When she returned, he felt a sudden wave of knowledge and sympathy come from her.

"The bears…" she murmured. "Is Esme alright?"

"Yes, and you are too," he replied. "Only…"

He took a deep breath and reached for the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a hand mirror, holding it out to her wordlessly. She took it, holding it before her face for a moment…then fingered the two swollen bitemarks at her neck that were just now starting to fade.

"Did you…?"

He nodded, saying nothing, watching and waiting as she put the mirror on the bed and stared him straight in the eye.

"I understand."

She knew. She knew it all. And she still loved him for it. He was unworthy, unclean, and still she loved him.

A small laugh, merry and bright, filled his ears like angelic music. Alice was smiling.

"Did you think I would hate you?" she asked as if it were the most ridiculous idea in the world.

"I…" He faltered and shrugged his shoulders. His ideas seemed silly now that she was back with him.

She shook her head. "I could never hate you. No matter what happened, you are my Jasper and always will be." She smiled at him again, her hand going to her throat – then freezing. "My…my necklace. Where is it?"

"Oh." It was Jasper's turn to smile, and he reached to the back of his neck, unclasping the tight silver chain he had been wearing since Alice became ill. The small ruby heart pendant, one he had given her that Christmas so long ago, fell into his hands, and he latched it around her neck with ease, then smoothing his hands over her cheeks, holding her face in his palms.

"Alice," he murmured, his words halting in his throat. He couldn't get them out. Couldn't say the _don't even leave me again_ and _I love you so much it hurts_ he had poised on his tongue.

But she smiled up and him and nodded, turning her face to kiss his palm. Even without speaking, she knew. And though he didn't think it was possible, the love in him grew even more.


	18. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth

Thanks for the ride. It's been fun. Happy reading.

-Mandi

* * *

It would take a while for things to return to normal. A long while. It would be a year before Esme and Alice could grow from their newborn stage, though Carlisle had the hope that, since this was their second time around, they might recover faster. Bella wasn't quite so sure; she could see the hunger in their eyes, remembered that same parched feeling in her own throat not quite ten years ago. It was a feeling she would never forget and one she doubted her mother and sister would not overcome easily or quickly.

But for now, the household was settling into a sort of everyday movement, like the orderly workings of a well-made clock. Carlisle returned to his book-writing, Rosalie and Edward to their studies, and the rest had their own events to take up their endless days and nights. Esme was slow to start, but she soon continued her refurbishing of the house, going out very little and always being accompanied with someone during the hunts, as did Alice. Alice's second fashion line had fallen through, much to her visible upset, and the stress of that combined with her sudden unsatiable thirst meant everyone was making their best attempt to cheer her.

For the moment, Bella was doing what she could by playing a sort of live Barbie doll for the girl, letting her do what she did best (and what Bella sort of hated) so Alice would be both distracted and pleased. Rosalie was in the dressing room too, lounging on Alice's chaise and flipping through a magazine.

"Stay still," Alice murmured as she held Bella's face in her hands. She was peering intently into her eyes, and Bella found the reddened stare just a trifle unnerving, but kept her mouth shut. After Alice's eyes glazed over and returned, she nodded to herself. "Hmmm, yes. That will do."

"What will?" Bella asked. Whenever she let Alice have free reign over her appearances, she always ended up looking fabulous, but only after about a few hours' worth of hard work on the tiny dynamo's part and sitting insanely still on her own.

"You'll see," Alice retorted, cracking a smile. That smile made Bella sigh; Alice's true happiness didn't come as often as it once had. She was still mostly the sunshiny girl she had been, but there were definitely more bouts of quiet and more times she shut herself up in her room since the change. Jasper was the only one who could truly cheer her, and he made every effort to do so, as did they all. But she still smiled, and Bella and Rosalie's eyes met over the top of the blonde's magazine, recognizing the small step forward.

Bella tilted her face up as Alice smoothed a layer of foundation over her skin, then dipped a black brush into a pot of nearly-white loose powder, tapping the handle on the lid to remove the excess and brushing it over her face.

"Your complexion's so nice now, you barely need this," Rosalie mused, licking her finger to flip a page.

"Now?" Bella asked, looking back and forth between her two sisters.

Alice bit her lip and smiled embarrassedly. "I think she means that you had nice skin as a human, but now…"

Bella had to laugh. "No, it's true. I get it." Her skin had been milky pale before her change. Now, it was clear, luminescent, perfect. Just like Alice's and Rosalie's.

"It's a compliment," Rosalie said in her lofty way, but her smile was sincere (even if the compliment was slightly backhanded).

Alice turned away, fussing with a pot of blush. "Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you…" She paused, not looking up from the vanity.

"Do I…what?"

"Do you…miss it?"

Rosalie froze on the bed, suddenly listening very, very intently. Bella knew exactly what her sister was speaking of, knew just why Rose was so eager to hear her response, but wasn't sure what to say. Of course there were days she missed being human. She missed being able to go into town unnoticed and without danger of killing anyone. She missed peanut butter milkshakes. She missed Charlie and Renée and everyone else she had left behind.

But she had Edward. She had her child. She would have them, and the rest of their family, for all of eternity. That made it worthwhile. And to speak of something Alice had no knowledge of and Rosalie ached for so badly just seemed cruel.

"Only sometimes," she admitted truthfully.

"Sometimes?" Rosalie repeated, trying to lead her into an explanation.

But Bella wasn't going to be fooled into saying something hurtful. "Yeah. Sometimes."

"Oh." Alice angled Bella's head to the light, smearing blush onto Bella's cheekbones. "This is more useful than the base, I guess."

"Why?"

"Well, we can't really have a natural blush so –"

"No, no," Bella cut her off. "Why do you ask that, I mean."

Alice paused, her brush in midair, little particles of makeup dancing in the light like dust. Rosalie was staring at her nails but was so likewise frozen it was obvious her vanity was just an attempt at distraction. The entire room was silent for nearly a minute, each waiting for the explanation they all knew was coming.

Alice hung her head almost guiltily and murmured, "I'm not sure. I…I guess…I had the chance, you know? I had to chance to see what it was like. I don't remember any of that life and…I could have had a chance."

A chance. Something Bella had wanted when Edward refused to change her. Something Rosalie wished for a second time around. And something Alice had been denied by both her first and second change.

Bella brought her sister's stalled hand down, squeezing her palm around hers. "I know. Do you regret that Jasper –"

"_No._" The word was so adamant that Bella was at once reassured. "He did what he had to do. He could barely help it. And…well, it brought me back to him. Who knows if I would have remembered him if I stayed like that? I have a feeling I wouldn't have."

Bella wrinkled her eyebrows, confused. "What do you mean?"

Alice shrugged her shoulders. "When Esme came to, she was just like she had been when she died. Me…I wasn't dying. I was just like I had been in my human life. No pain, no illness, just…me. I was exactly like I was before I died. Would I retain my memory then? Or would I have had the same one I had when I was in the asylum?"

Bella had no response. The mere idea of never remembering the one she loved was too frightening.

"Do you really think that would have happened?" Rosalie asked in a hushed whisper, only glancing up at the small girl through her thick lashes. "Do you really think you wouldn't remember Jasper or us or anything?"

Again, she shrugged. "Well, I haven't told Jasper, but…before my mind stopped…I had the strangest vision. Like…I was more scared by it than anything I've ever seen before."

"Strange?" Bella repeated. "How?"

Alice paused and took a deep breath. "I…I had kids. I was older and I had kids. Two little redheaded sons."

The implication of her words sunk in immediately. Had Jasper let her stay in that human form, her memory could have been so erased that the love they shared would no longer touch her and somehow, in some awful parallel universe none of them could understand, she would love another, marry and have children and grow old with someone else.

"I'm not saying it _would_ happen," Alice interjected. "You know my visions can change. They're never set in stone. But…it could have been that way. Had he not changed me. And so, for that…for that, I am grateful I was denied that chance."

"Are you really?" Rosalie asked, her voice hoarse and haunted. The other girls knew exactly why the emotion was affecting her so and just what she wanted, what she was trying to get at through her questioning. "Even with the pain and being a newborn and Jasper going through what he did? Even with that one last chance you could have had?"

Alice bit her lip then looked Rosalie square in the eye and nodded. "I know it's hard. For me and Esme to start over, for Carlisle and Jasper to do what they did. For everyone else too. But I'd rather have this life than any other anyone could dream of. Even if I wasn't gifted or if we lived in a shack or _anything_…if I have Jasper and my family, it's worth it."

Rosalie looked away for a moment, her mind processing what she had been told. Bella felt her breath still in her lungs; Edward had told her just how much Rose had been obsessing over a potential change the last few days, how her thoughts had constantly been on the brink of asking to try it and fearing what it would mean if she did. But Rosalie sighed a little sigh, a sound of surrender, and looked up with clear, steadfast eyes, and nodded.

"Thanks, Alice," she said with a smile, stooping to kiss the top of her sister's head before leaving the room.

"Do you think she…?" Bella trailed off, still a little frightened that Rosalie would want to try it, even after all of Alice's explanations.

Alice paused, her mind flickering forward to the future…then shook her head. "No. She'll stay. Happily."

Bella nodded. Things would be alright. She could feel it, even without a gift like Alice's. With Rosalie finally deciding to stay as one of them and with them, Esme and Alice getting better in time, and everyone settling their differences and struggles within, they could be a family again.

"Now," Alice went on, breaking into her thoughts, "close your eyes and sit still. I can't foil the lids right if you're twitching."

Bella's mouth perked up a bit, and even though she had no desire to have her eyelids foiled (whatever that meant), she became a statue, obediently acquiescing. And even though she wasn't sure what it included, the foiling made her eyes look glammed-up and even more alluring than before. The magic Alice worked was quick and steady and gave Bella a face to rival Rosalie's.

"Well?" Alice asked when she was done, standing back and looking pleased.

Bella angled her face this way and that in front of the mirror, staring at how Alice had highlighted her already-exquisite features, done magic to her eyes, and even put a bit of blush on her cheeks, bringing back a human flush to her face. Bella reached up to touch the rosiness, but stopped just over her skin, not wanting to smudge it.

"I thought you might like it, since you haven't been able to blush yourself lately," Alice said jokily. "I thought Edward might like it too."

Her reddened eyes flickered over to the left. Edward stood in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest, the corner of his mouth lifted up in a smile.

"I do," he replied as he stepped into the room. "Very much. Bella…would you, er, mind coming with me?"

Bella looked over to her sister. Her goal in coming here had been to cheer her sister, not turn on her husband, and it felt almost like abandonment to go to him then.

"Go on," Alice said, such a smile in her eyes that Bella knew she wasn't just saying it but truly meant it. "I'll see you later."

Bella stopped to squeeze Alice's forearm before walking to her husband and putting her hand in his.

Edward led her into the hall with a smile, bringing her towards the stairs that rose to the third floor and their rooms. "You look…"

Had she blood in her veins, she would have blushed. "It was Alice's idea."

"Yes, remind me to thank her later." He pulled her to the top of the stairs and bent to kiss her neck.

"Edward…" The word came out breathily, and she sagged against his body, letting him hold her.

Edward smiled down at her, smoothing a strand of hair from her face. "You look like you did when I first met you."

"Nervous and clumsy?"

He laughed. "No. Crimson." He brushed his lips against her painted-pink cheek, his breath warm against her skin, making her shiver. She moved her mouth to meet his, to kiss him deeply, passionately, to let him know in that single motion just how much he meant to her. When his hand came up to caress that streak of blush against her face, she chuckled against his lips.

He pulled back, giving her a puzzled look. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she replied. It had been a silly thought.

"No, you laughed," he pointed out. "What were you thinking of?"

"Well…I look like I did when we met," she explained. "And so do you. And…we always will. Forever."

He grinned widely, his smile as dazzling as the first time she had seen it. "And I can think of nothing better than that."

* * *

After a ten minute search that evening, Carlisle found Esme at the foot of the stairs, sitting on the second-to-last step and holding onto the rungs of the railing. She looked almost child-like in her positioning there, watching through the railing with such wonderment in her eyes. Carlisle peered around to see what was in her view. Just in her line of sight was the doorway to the family room, and the vision within was captivating her.

It was a simple scene. Alice and Edward had pulled out one of the older chess sets and were playing against each other, Alice on the sofa and Edward seated cross-legged on the ground with the chessboard on the coffee table between them. Jasper lay on the sofa with his head in Alice's lap, and she reached down to stroke his hair absent-mindedly every so often. Bella was just behind Edward, her arms around his neck as she watched the game over his shoulder, occasionally using her gift to shield his upcoming moves from Alice's mind, something she protested as "cheating of the worst kind." Rosalie, over in the corner on the loveseat, laughed at Bella's protestations before returning to her studies and the textbook in her lap, occasionally pushing Emmett's hand away from her thighs (though her palm slid up his muscled bicep just as often as his did her leg). There was nothing too exciting going on. No extensive conversations were being had, no brilliant theories were exchanged, and there was certainly no exciting drama to behold. Just a family. Together. Happy.

Esme looked up at him with tears in her eyes as she smiled brilliantly, and Carlisle slid down to sit beside her, tugging her towards him until her body was flush against his. She tilted her head down, resting it upon his shoulder; he buried his nose in her hair in response.

"My darling?" he murmured against her brow.

She sighed, a heavy yet content sound. "I love them so."

He sighed too, but his was a shuddery rush of air, a frightened sound, as if he could barely stand to remember what they had been through and what almost had been. "I know."

Her voice was choked with emotion as she went on. "I am…I am so thankful for them. I thank God every day for bringing me them. And you." Esme raised her head, her warm gaze upon his. "I thank you, my love, for giving me my family."

Carlisle pressed his forehead against hers. "No. It would not have been a family without you."

Esme laughed slightly and turned her face again, facing the group happily interacting before them. "No. It wouldn't have been a family without a single one of us. We're together again. Whole."

And as he wrapped his arms around her, Carlisle was sure that would be the way things would stay for as long as they all lived, forever, for eternity.

_~Fin~_


End file.
